


Home Is Where the Heart Is

by TheBigChillQueen



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-06-24 02:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15620490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigChillQueen/pseuds/TheBigChillQueen
Summary: The Rivera family in the Land of the Dead gain a new addition but it's not who they were expecting, especially not so soon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long while since I last wrote something fanfic-related, but I'm happy to start with my newest obsession, "Coco"!
> 
> I still love "Dude, That's My Ghost!" and "Robotboy" a lot and would love to keep working on my fics for them, but "Coco" is just easier for me to work with since I have just one main source to work off of as opposed to multiple episodes. Not to mention I LOVE this movie's touching theme about family and just how GORGEOUS and emotionally powerful it is. I've watched it (and cried) so many times, I've lost count.
> 
> This is rated T and has that archived warning for suggestive themes, which is sexual assault/rape. None actually happens, though. It's just heavily implied.
> 
> Also, any Spanish stems from Google Translate and from a Spanish dictionary I own from when I took two years of it in high school. I've forgotten most of what I learned, so it's of no help to me.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave kudos and/or a comment, if you wish! Thank you!

Héctor Rivera anxiously drummed his fingers on the top of his hat as he sat inside the trolley car that was headed towards the Marigold Grand Central Station; worrying his bottom lip and bouncing his left leg as he willed the contraption to move faster.

The rest of the dead Riveras were out on their weekly trip to the market to get shop supplies for the Rivera Familia de Zapateros and groceries. His wife, Imelda, had left him to mind the business she started up almost a century ago so he had been the one who answered the phone when it rang. Believing it was the usual call-in for an order of shoes, Héctor had happily answered it as professionally as he could. What he had heard instead was a slightly concerned voice asking if he was a member of the Rivera family.

While he no longer had any internal organs, Héctor had felt his phantom heart skip a beat, his grin instantly dropping from his face as he confirmed the information asked of him.

He knew that the only reason someone would call with that sort of query was if they worked in the Department of Family Reunions, an agency that dealt with matching recently deceased relatives with their families that already resided in the Land of the Dead.

That in of itself meant one thing: another member of the Rivera clan had recently passed.

Héctor’s mind went blank as he processed this, momentarily forgetting he was still on the phone. The case worker brought him back to attention by telling him that he was needed at the department as soon as possible to pick up his relative, failing to disclose their identity, before hanging up and leaving Héctor frustrated. He grumbled a swear before hastily closing and locking up the shop then rushed off towards the trolley station.

 

Now here he was, thoughts racing as he tried thinking of who could be waiting for him at Reunions. His worst fear was that they were one of his six cherished great-great grandchildren, namely Miguel or the latest addition to the Riveras, Socorro.

It was the former whom Héctor had met, developed a tight bond with shortly thereafter, and then discovered his relation to on  _Día de los Muertos_ two years ago. That bond had only grown after that revelation, coupled with their shared passion for music and strong love for their family.

As for Socorro, well, she would only be 2-years old by now; not much younger than her namesake–his daughter, Coco–had been when Héctor had left his home in Santa Cecilia one final time 98 years ago to go on tour with his former performing partner and murderer, Ernesto de la Cruz, in order to try to provide for his family. Héctor shivered at the thought of two of his youngest great-great grandchildren meeting a horrible, premature death like he had.

 

It made the trip all the more distressing.

 

Finally, after what felt like eons to the 118 and-a-half year old skeleton, the gripman announced their arrival at the station. With a heavy, shaky sigh, Héctor replaced his hat and departed the trolley car. He headed directly through the doors that took him into the Department of Family Reunions, which was as busy as it usually was with hundreds of excited, nervous, and crying families meeting up with their newly-arrived loved ones.

It would have been a very heartwarming sight to family-oriented Héctor if he wasn’t so tense about meeting his own. One of the case workers who weren’t busy with clients noticed him right away, her expression taking on one of pity, and held out her hand to shake his as he approached her desk.

“ _Buenas tardes_ , Héctor. Thank you so much for–”

“Where are they?” Héctor abruptly interrupted, gripping the edge firmly. His brow ridges furrowed with seriousness, indicating he was not here for small-talk and that he wanted to get straight to business; his height aiding with the intimidating image he projected at that moment.

Whoever was waiting for him must be terrified and he didn’t want them to be alone any longer than they probably already have been. The case worker realized this and quickly stood so she could lead him to a door that was labeled as “Waiting Room”.

“She was brought in here an hour-and-a-half ago,  _Señor_  Rivera. She’s still very much shaken up by this whole ordeal.”

“”She”?” Héctor echoed, looking at the case worker with wide eyes.

So whoever was behind this door was one of his female relatives but there were many of them he recollected from his past visits to the Land of the Living, leaving him still clueless.

 

His anxiety skyrocketed.

 

“ _Sí_ ,  _Señor_. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted while I gather the paperwork for you to take her back home.  _Lo siento_ ,” the case worker added, giving Héctor’s shoulder a compassionate pat before returning to her post to do what she had said she would do.

Héctor remained standing at the door for a few more moments, just staring blankly at the frosted window. Part of himself wanted to turn and walk away, dreading facing whoever was inside out of fear that he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from falling apart if they were one of his great-great grandchildren.

He never had the pleasure of directly interacting with any of his living family while in their world so he couldn’t gauge how they would feel upon finally meeting the man they had adamantly tried to forget–going as far as banning any form of music altogether–even if he was forgiven and had his reputation restored and photo placed upon the  _ofrenda_.

What if a few of them still despised him for unintentionally abandoning Imelda and Coco? Miguel might have saved Héctor from his Final Death by getting his daughter to remember him enough to pass along his stories and revealing the shocking truth about Ernesto not only stealing his songs but also murdering him the night Héctor had tried to go home but despite all of this, he wasn’t 100% sure if some of his descendants still held a grudge against him or not.

 

Héctor was certain about one thing, though: if his other granddaughter, Elena, was the one waiting for him, he would be getting a  _chancla_  to the  _cabeza_.

 

 Regardless of his fears, Héctor would never walk away from his family, not ever again. He had been forcibly distanced from them for so long–too long, in his opinion–and had only just been renewing his relationships with each member of his dead family. Héctor wouldn’t make the same mistake twice; he’d never forgive himself if he did and he knew Imelda wouldn’t, either. He didn’t want to put her or Coco or the rest of his family through that kind of pain a second time.

 

Steeling his nerves to prepare himself, putting on a demeanor that he  _hoped_  looked welcoming and sincere, Héctor opened the door.

The room was of medium size and painted a calming, light blue with rows of cushioned seats aligning the walls on either side of him. Two, black leather couches sat in the center with a small, glass coffee table that had a few magazines and a vase of  _cempasúchils_  on it between them.

The carpet was a plain maroon color and the only other decorations were a few potted plants spotted about the room and various posters that displayed motivational sayings or random bits of information and landscape paintings on the walls. The florescent lights on the tiled ceiling cast a soft, warm yellow glow, giving the room a more peaceful feel to it.

 

There was only one other occupant in the room and she was  _young_. Héctor’s breath hitched as his throat clenched; his worst nightmare having just been confirmed right then and there. His smile wavered, making it hard to keep up his façade; his mind frantic.

_“Nonono!”_

_“This can’t be…”_

_“Why her?”_

_“What happened?”_

_“So young…”_

Héctor’s knees trembled but he locked them to keep from collapsing.

The girl standing at the far wall faced away from him, not realizing he was there as she seemed immersed in one of the posters. She couldn’t have been more than 14-years old. Her left hand was tightly clutching her right arm, a habit done out of nervousness that was not unlike the same gesture Héctor and Miguel did when they were experiencing the same emotion. She was a bit taller than the last time Héctor had saw her, but her long, dark brown hair was still in a high ponytail with a pink, flower headband holding back her bangs.

Héctor could hear quiet sniffling and sobbing coming from the girl. He stepped over the threshold, silently shutting the door behind him, before slowly gravitating towards her; the old skeleton feeling the strong paternal instincts he’s had since even before he became a father.

He so desperately wanted to do nothing more than immediately to wrap his great-great granddaughter in a pacifying embrace. It was in his nature to provide security and comfort to any child he saw who needed it, especially those of his own blood. He felt like that was a bad idea, however, so he had to squash that aspect of himself until the time was right.

 

“Rosa?” he called out softly, willing himself to remain strong as he continued closing the gap.

He winced when the teenager gasped lightly and jumped before she swiftly whirled around and pressed herself up against the wall. Her mahogany eyes–scleras reddened from crying–were wide in their sockets as she gawked him with sheer trepidation. She still wore the same red wire-framed glasses she had since she was 12 or younger; having inherited her near-sightedness from either  _Tío_  Óscar,  _Tío_  Felipe, or  _Tía_ Victoria.

Rosa’s bones were pure white–a tell-tale sign of a fresh, well-remembered newcomer in the Land of the Dead. Her  _calavera_  markings consisted of yellow starbursts on her youthful, slightly angular cheekbones, light-green vines on her forehead, and a single, red rose on her chin. Small, orange dots curved across the tops of her eye-sockets, which had broad, pink petals–Héctor taking notice that they were very similar to Rosita’s–encircling the edges.

 

With Rosa now facing him, Héctor could see that her pale-violet blouse and blue-jean capris were tattered and dirty in various places and that one of her Rivera-brand flats was missing. There were also disturbing signs that hinted to the nature of her untimely death.

Though his bones were dangerously close to giving out on him, especially after seeing what sort of state Rosa was in, Héctor had to swallow his rage so he could remain as calm and collected as he could for his precious  _nieta_.

Rosa looked terrified enough as it was so him being angry upon introduction would make for a poor first impression. She had only just begun to hear positive stories about her great-great grandfather and he was fervent in making sure he lived up to them.

 

Héctor had been allowed to only watch and listen to Rosa beautifully play her violin alongside her older brother, Abel, on the accordion and Miguel on Héctor’s guitar the first  _Día de los Muertos_  he was able to cross the Marigold Bridge. He had also managed to catch glimpses of her social life as she laughed and played with her younger twin brothers, Manny and Benny, or her group of friends. It made him really want to get to know the rest of his great-great grandchildren better, knowing it would, hopefully, not be for a long, long time.

Now that Rosa was finally here, albeit through whatever tragic hand fate had dealt her, he would get that chance. Still, it hurt him immensely that she was taken from her life before she could experience it to the fullest.

 

Rosa remained against the wall but was now staring quizzically at the Héctor, who had stopped mere feet from her. She looked like she was trying to place a face to his appearance.

She took in his signature straw hat, patched up purple, sleeveless mariachi vest, red neck tie, brown-pinstriped slacks that were held up by a pair of suspenders and a rope belt with a pouch hanging down his right hip, and wingtips.

The only existing photo of Héctor back in the Land of the Living was the one of him in his mariachi suit with his memorable white, gold-toothed skull guitar standing behind Imelda and a toddler Coco. Héctor presumed Rosa wouldn’t be able to tell that he and his living self were one in the same but before he could help her out, she spoke.

“You’re  _Papá_  Héctor, aren’t you?” she inquired, her tone quiet enough to still show her apprehension but loud enough to be heard.

Héctor’s jaw dropped open in shock, just barely keeping his eyeballs from dropping into it. If it had unnerved Miguel when he accidentally allowed that to happen the first time they had met, then it was bound to do the same–or worse–to Rosa. He quickly composed himself and nodded, a small, relieved smile breaking across his face.

“ _Sí_ , I-I am! How did you know?”

“Miguel talked about you, going into great detail about your appearance,” Rosa muttered, giving a tiny shrug. “I guess he really wanted to make sure you weren’t to be nearly forgotten again.”

Héctor smirked fondly, his heart swelling with more love for his great-great grandson, chuckling. “ _Aye_ , that sounds like my  _chamaco_ , alright.”

 

The room then fell into an awkward silence. Rosa looked away from him, choosing to stare off to the side at nothing in particular. She resumed her nervous gesture as Héctor stared at her with sad eyes.

The impulse to hug her was growing, but he had to refrain from doing so for he wasn’t sure how she’d respond to someone who probably seemed like a stranger to her suddenly hugging her, even if they were family. So he opted for carefully moving away to sit down on one of the couches, smiling warmly as Rosa sat across from him on the other one, still not meeting his gaze.

 

After five placid minutes, Héctor decided to break the ice.

“What happened, Rosa?” he questioned gently, feeling like it might be best to get the hard things out of the way first.

Rosa flinched sharply, her face scrunching up as she bit her bottom lip. She began blinking rapidly. Héctor realized that she was suppressing herself from crying and that he had accidentally hit a sensitive nerve.

Whatever–or whoever–caused her death was certainly unpleasant and traumatic. He quashed another wave of anger at the source of her pain, though his fists clenched tightly.

 

“I-I…” Rosa stammered, her voice trembling as unwanted memories of her final moments of life flowed into her mind.

She groaned and gripped her skull, fingers digging into her hair, as tears spilled from her eyes. She bent forward. “I-I can’t tell you. It hurts so much to think about...the parts I can remember. I feel like I'm missing some pieces.”

Héctor put his worries about personal space aside as he hurriedly transferred himself beside Rosa, gathering his now sobbing great-great granddaughter into his arms in a tender embrace.

Rosa froze under his grip; her fight-or-flight response made her want to shove Héctor away and run out of the room but his gentle, fatherly hold on her was just so solacing...unlike the harsh grasp of bruising hands on her arms that she vividly recalled with nightmarish detail.

Rosa shuddered violently and sunk into Héctor’s chest, seeking safety in him. She felt his arms tighten around her. She only knew of her great-great grandfather from her great-grandma Coco’s tales about him that she had told shortly before she had passed.

She had said that he was the most nurturing, affectionate father who had cared so much for her and her  _mamá_ ; his voice soothing enough to wash away any pain or fears she had. He had even wrote her a special song that he sung to her every night–the same one that Rosa remembered Miguel singing to _Mamá_ Coco that allowed her to regain her dissipating memories of Héctor.

While Héctor had sounded very kind and caring in these stories, Rosa still had her reservations about whether he would be the same way towards her whenever they had met. Miguel had first met him when he was a lying, shifty con-man who had wanted to use him to carry his photo back to the Land of the Living since he was unable to cross the bridge due to not having one on the Rivera’s  _ofrenda_.

Miguel had said that he was like that only because he just wanted to see Coco again before he was completely forgotten. While Rosa knew he had changed drastically after he and Miguel had discovered their secret relation to each other, showing his true colors, she couldn’t help but feel extremely weary of him when he had first come through that door.

However after just a short exchange of words and with Héctor giving her the same, endearing affection her own  _papá_ did when she was upset or simply felt like it because he loved his  _bebita_  so much, Rosa’s worries about her long-lost relative quickly diminished. Her weeping and sniffling persisted as she clutched Héctor’s vest.

 

“Shh,  _estas bien, mija_. Shh.” Héctor whispered placatingly, stroking Rosa’s hair and back simultaneously. He rested his face atop her scalp, pressing his bony lips to it in a skeletal kiss. “It’ll be alright. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. What matters more is that you’re safe and we are going to care for you from now on.”

Héctor’s calming voice was slowly relaxing Rosa. He could feel her tremors lessen and counted his lucky stars for being able to ease her troubles.

Rosa sniffled, pushing away a bit to look up at him, confused. She shifted her glasses up to wipe her eyes with her palm. “”We”?”

Héctor nodded, giving her a serene smile, using his thumb to brush away some stray tears. “The rest of your family on your  _ofrenda_  is here as well,  _gatita_. There’s your _Mamá_ Imelda and _Mamá_  Coco,  _Tía_  Victoria and  _Tía_  Rosita,  _Tío_  Óscar and  _Tío_  Felipe, and  _Papá_ Julio!”

“Wow, Miguel wasn’t lying when he said that you all really were out there and that this world isn’t a made-up place.” Rosa said, bewildered that her annoying kid cousin was telling the truth the whole time, making Héctor laugh. He patted Rosa’s head gingerly.

 “Victoria told me that Miguel thought the same thing when he got himself cursed. She also said that he thought vitamins didn’t exist, either.”

“Seriously?” Rosa asked, raising a disbelieving brow ridge. She scoffed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “ _Mi primo es un idiota_.”

Her face became pained once more at the memory of Miguel; his rounded face and that one-dimpled smile he was so very proud of clear as crystal in her mind. Sure he could be a huge pain, sometimes, and they enjoyed teasing each other to no end but she still loved him as much as he loved her. They just had their own special way of showing that affection.

 

Rosa bit back another urge to cry, feeling like she’s done enough of that since she first awoke dead on the Marigold Bridge and then was taken through the gates for Arrivals before being carted to the Department of Family Reunions. Héctor figured she was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

The case worker’s earlier words to him about Rosa being shaken up by what happened to her rang through his mind. He knew that she was far from done shedding tears, unfortunately, but he was determined to be there each time she broke down. She didn’t need to shoulder this grief alone.

She shouldn’t have to.

She was still a kid and all of this was just too much for her to handle by herself. Héctor would be obliged to help shoulder her pain as much as he could, no matter how long it took. He had no doubt that his family would do the same thing. It made him all the more proud to be a Rivera.

 

Héctor placed a reassuring hand upon Rosa’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s head home, shall we? You’ve had quite the day,  _niña_ , and need the rest. Whatever is troubling you we can discuss later, but  _only_  if you want to,” he added with firm clarification. “No one is forcing you, though. This is a new experience for you and the Land of the Dead can be overwhelming to new arrivals, but your  _familia_  is here and we  _will_  do our best to make sure you are well loved and provided for.” Héctor vowed, pulling Rosa into another hug in which she gladly returned, letting out a shaky laugh.

“I suppose hugs are also a thing for the Riveras here, aren’t they?”

“You bet,  _chamaca_! I should warn you in advance that  _Tía_  Rosita is infamous for her bear hugs!”

“So that’s who  _Papá_ gets it from,” Rosa giggled, the tension and pain melting away, even just temporarily.

Her giggles were music to Héctor’s non-existent ears. He made it a goal to make her laugh everyday and show her as much fun as possible if it would help her transition into the Land of the Dead go along smoother and for her mind to be distracted from her disconcerting thoughts until she was fully ready to share the gruesome details of her death.

He wouldn’t press her, of course, and neither would the any of the other dead Riveras. If she didn’t want to ever speak of whatever happened to her again, even if 200 years passed, then that was her decision. Héctor would just have to be ready to listen for when she was.

 

Héctor broke the hug, giving Rosa a quick peck on the forehead, before standing up from the couch. He cracked his spine by making the individual vertebra twist around consecutively, glancing at his great-great granddaughter over his shoulder to see her reaction.

He grinned broadly when she let out a little laugh, covering her mouth; her smile reaching her eyes, making them squint. Héctor’s heart fluttered at the pure sight.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that his little Rosa was much like Rosita in the way they laughed. He pondered if she had been named after her great-great-aunt and made a note to ask his daughter-in-law about it whenever he had the chance.

After putting on that little show, Héctor turned to face Rosa, bowing slightly in a gentlemanly way. Folding his other one behind his back, he extended a hand out to her, inviting her to take it so he could help her up.

Rosa giggled once more and gratefully accepted it, allowing her silly  _tatarabuelo_  to pull her to her feet. Héctor kissed the back of Rosa’s hand then wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side with a gentle squeeze before leading her back out into the main area of the Department of Family Reunions to take care of the waiting paperwork he wasn’t looking forward to filling out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: SUPER sorry everyone!! I hadn't realized that text emoticons would screw things up or that part of the chapter after the chapter break would be cut off as a result. It's fixed now!! I'm so sorry again!!! I'll be more vigilant next time!!!!
> 
> Did you know that Rosa's voice actress, Montse Hernandez, is also the current voice of Gwen Tennyson from the "Ben 10" reboot? When I found this out, I was elated since I love both "Ben 10" and "Coco" so much! :D Now anytime I watch the "Ben 10" reboot and Gwen talks, I'll be thinking of Rosa and vice versa!! Should I write anything about her and Miguel, it'll most likely be greatly inspired by Gwen and her own awesome relationship with her cousin, Ben! 
> 
> Now that I think about it, quite a few actors/actresses who had roles in various "Ben 10" installments were also in "Coco" such as: Alanna Ubach (Mamá Imelda as well as Rook Shar/Rook Ben from "Omniverse") and Herbert Siguenza (Tío Oscar and Tío Felipe as well as Victor Validus from "Ben 10: Alien Swarm"). It nearly blew my fangirl mind!!! AAH!
> 
> ANYWAY, I would love to thank everyone so much for all the lovely comments, kudos, and views!!! They made me so happy and motivated me so much to keep working on this!! I've been having a lot of fun with it and really hope to keep rolling with it!!! You're all absolutely amazing and wonderful!! ;3; 
> 
> As a thank you I made Chapter 2 extra long! I edited it as best and carefully as I could but please feel free to point out any errors! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'll be taking a bit of a break to work on some art-I'm TheBig-ChillQueen on deviantART and tumblr if you wanna check out my gallery and/or follow me!! I hope to do some "Coco" fanart!!-so I'll see you in the next chapter! ♥

Rosa held her _Papá_ Héctor’s hand as they strolled out of the Marigold Grand Central Station and through the bustling, resplendent city together. Héctor was whistling a jolly tune, occasionally stealing fond glances at his great-great granddaughter, as they ambled down the sidewalk.

He avidly chose to walk her home to not only give him ample time to spend with his descendant and get to know her better but to also protect her from the claustrophobic trolley that would surely be full of curious eyes and nosey people who didn’t understand the meaning of boundaries. Not only that, but Rosa’s stained, torn clothes and missing shoe (he really wished the agency had a surplus of donated clothing) was bound to raise even more questions that neither had the time nor energy to spare for.

Most of the denizens of the Land of the Dead associated Héctor with that one momentous _Día de los Muertos_ where he had been revealed as the true author of the songs that gave rise to Ernesto’s celebrity status.

Héctor’s–along with the entirety of the dead Rivera family–role in bringing the fraud to light with the help of his great-great grandson also had much to do with his increasing popularity. The family often found it difficult to go about their daily lives without getting swarmed and pestered by their new fans; Imelda had to resort to either chasing them away with her boot or having her intimidating winged-jaguar alebrije, Pepita, scare them off.

Even Miguel had become a rather prominent figure in just a short amount of time for he was the first and only living human being to have been transported to the dead world via a curse, thus earning him the simple yet meaningful nickname of The Living Boy.

Héctor surely missed the days when he was considered just an ordinary guy from a small town who was trying to live his life as happily as he could, which he hoped to do again after getting reacquainted with his wife, granddaughter, and in-laws.

If anyone saw Héctor with another young relative of his, dead this time around, they would certainly be flocking around them to ask hundreds of bothersome and personal questions. Héctor wasn’t one who willingly sought out attention or stardom, not even while touring with Ernesto during their lively years, and he knew Rosa didn’t need their prodding in her frail state of mind.

So he avoided the trolleys altogether, even if they were the fastest way to get around. Rosa hadn’t said anything, but Héctor knew that she was greatly appreciative and relieved by his decision.

 

Once they were outside, Rosa was practically blinded by just how ridiculously _bright_ the Land of the Dead truly was; what with its myriad of neon colors that were beacons against the backdrop of night. The moon hanging in the sky was practically a giant light-bulb that just made things all the more luminescent with its ethereal white glow.

Rosa didn’t have the chance to soak in her new place of residence–having been too preoccupied with more pressing matters–but now that she was calmer and more observant, she felt as if she was walking through a funhouse at a carnival rather than a fantastical land full of undead citizens.

Being a skeleton herself was something Rosa was still comprehending. It was just so foreign to see bones that had just hours (has it really only been that long?) ago been covered by flesh and muscles. At first it was so bizarre to her that she thought she was dreaming.

After she had been left alone in the waiting room to gather her bearings, Rosa had tried pinching her arms multiple times, though there was no skin or nerves to pinch. She had even tried slapping her own face to force herself to wake up from whatever nightmare she was having; practically almost knocking her skull off in the process.

That was enough for it to dawn on her that she was in no dream and that she was, in fact, very much dead. It wasn’t an easy conclusion to arrive at, which was why she had then spent the time it took for Héctor to arrive at Reunions to try and convince herself to come to terms with her afterlife, of which she was still trying to do.

 

 As the duo walked, Héctor keeping up a slow-enough pace for her so she didn’t stumble trying to match his long strides with those giraffe legs of his, Rosa tried very hard not to look any other skeletons they passed in the eyes. She shied away some when a couple jovially greeted her and Héctor.

She expected her ancestor to chastise her for being rude like her _Mamá_ or _Papá_ would but, instead, he simply returned their greetings with a cheery response of his own while hugging Rosa close to him in reassurance and then moving the two of them along. The teenager was extremely thankful that the musician understood her needs so well even if it hadn’t even been more than an hour since they had met.

As they continued on their path home, music and laughter ringing through the air from all around them, Rosa gaped up in awe at the towering precariously stacked buildings that absolutely defied the laws of gravity and any sensible building codes in the living world.

Strings of lights and _papel picardos_ hung between them and over the cobblestone road. Rosa felt dizzy just looking at all of the structures so she averted her gaze to, instead, look up at her great-great grandfather. He was currently humming _“Un Poco Loco”_ while wearing the same genial grin he’s had on since handing the completed paperwork to the case worker.

 

“ _Papá_ Héctor?”

“Hmm?” Héctor’s head moved downwards so that he could meet her eyes with his own half-lidded ones. “ _Qué_   _pasa_ , _gatita_?”

Rosa blushed a little under the second usage of her relative’s apparent nickname for her. Admittedly it was beginning to grow on her. She cleared her throat before speaking.

“Uh, are these buildings safe?” Rosa pointed out one of the aforementioned structures that looked as if it were built by a drunken architect; a group of skeletons were carelessly leaning over or against the semi-crooked wrought iron railings on the balconies, either laughing, shouting, or talking to one another.

“They’re as safe as they can be for beings that no longer have to worry about getting seriously hurt!” Héctor beamed cheekily.

“But they look like they’re about to topple over at any minute!”

“The same magic or whatever it is that governs whether or not we continue thriving in this world based on how well-remembered we are is also what keeps that from happening, _mi querida_.” Héctor explained casually as if this wasn’t the first time he’s had to. Considering that curious Miguel had been here before and most likely asked the same thing, Rosa assumed that to be the case.

 

Her eyes wandered around some more before falling on some vendors aligning around a small cul-de-sac, selling various treats such as freshly baked _pan dulce_ , _tamal tortas, chamoyadas_ , and _paletas_. That was surely an unusual sight, considering the fact that skeletons lacked any digestive system–or _any_ system, for that matter.

This spectacle was made even more perplexing when customers bought the foods and then _ate_ them. Rosa didn’t see the food spill down from the bottom of their jaws as she had suspected would happen. They just seemed to have vanished… _somewhere_. Rosa’s inquisitive mind was baffled.

“Hungry?” Héctor’s voice startled her out of her stupor.

“Huh?” Rosa stared at him with a befuddled expression.

The older Rivera rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he ruffled her hair, causing her headband to go askew. Rosa groaned in annoyance and reached up to fix it.

“I asked if you were hungry. You were kinda staring off at those _vendedores_ , _chamaca_.”

“O-oh, no. I didn’t mean to-I was just… _how_?”

“How?” Now it was Héctor’s turn to be confused. They stopped walking so they could chat easier.

“Yeah, I mean. Where does the food _go_? You…er, _we…_ don’t have stomachs anymore! Or tongues or throats or _anything_ except _bones_ and eyeballs! And that’s another thing! How are we still able to move and talk and walk around as if we were still alive? By any logic it doesn’t make sense!”

Rosa paced around her elder as she carried on; one arm crossed over her torso as she tapped a finger against her chin in thought. Héctor’s skull was swiveling on his neck to follow his _nieta_. He couldn’t help the amused smirk from forming on his lips as he listened.

“Do we really still need to eat here? Will we die again from starvation or thirst? What about doing other bodily functions? There are so many questions about this place, I don’t even know where to begin!”

 

At this point, Héctor, who had been trying so hard to repress his snickers, burst out guffawing. He doubled over and slapped his knee as his laughter roared through the streets, causing bemused onlookers to gawk at him. Rosa was doing the same thing, unsure if she should be scared or surprised.

She gripped her arm.

“What?” Rosa asked meekly, feeling small about being laughed at.

Héctor managed to catch her uneasy expression between his squinted, watery eyes. He immediately started composing himself; straightening back up with one final whoop before wiping away the tears that formed from his laughing fit.

“My apologies, Rosa, but I was not laughing _at_ you,” he assured her, clapping a hand onto her shoulder. Her knees buckled a bit but she remained standing.

She raised a skeptical brow, tilting her head to the side. “You weren’t?”

“No, no, no! I would _never_ do that!” Héctor’s other hand found her other shoulder and he lowered himself down onto one knee so that he could be at eye-level with her, his voice taking on a benevolent tone with a smile to match. His eyes softened. “You are a naturally curious child, _mija_. There is nothing wrong with asking questions about things you don’t understand and you shouldn’t allow others to put you down for that.

The reason I laughed was because you just reminded me so much of myself at your age. I drove my parents _muy loco_ with all the questions I had; most of them being rather silly!

Unfortunately I don’t really have an answer for where the food we eat or the drinks we consume go, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to answer all of your questions. Us being alive, so to speak, and able to move about and doing things is just something that we have just learned to either chalk it up to the magic I mentioned earlier or to just accept things as they are.

We don’t necessarily feel hunger or thirst, either. I suppose we eat and drink as a way to remain connected with our old lives. And for obvious reasons there are no _baños_ in the Land of the Dead, either. _Entiendes_?”

“ _Sí_ , I think so,” Rosa responded honestly. It was a weird concept but like _Papá_ Héctor said, she had to either just think some mystical force was behind everything here or just accept it with no questions asked.

 

Héctor smirked and reached up to gently tousle Rosa’s hair, eliciting a giggle out of her. “Now, why don’t we go grab some _chamoyadas_ before we continue home?”

Rosa smiled back at him and nodded. Her grandfather stood up, looping an arm around her shoulders, and led her to the line in front of the vendor selling the spicy, sweet confectionary. They got their treats and resumed on their way.

Shortly afterwards, Héctor heard familiar voice calling out to him.

“ _Oye, Chorizo_!”

The elder skeleton paused in his tracks with an annoyed groan and eye-roll. “ _Oy vey_ , I thought we were past this, Gustavo.”

The two turned around as a bearded man about Rosa’s height approached them, carrying a violin case and a teasing expression upon his face.

“Hehe, sorry Héctor. I couldn’t resist for old time’s sake!”

“Yeah well, unfortunately, those “old times” weren’t good ones for me, _amigo_ ,” Héctor responded dryly but hugged Gustavo anyway, regardless of any past negativities he had about the violinist. “How are you, Tavo?”

“ _Soy bastante bueno_! The band and I just finished rehearsing for Frida’s next performance this _Día de los Muertos_! It’s going to be one heck of a show, Héctor! Possibly even better than the last one!”

“ _Epa_ , I have no doubt about that! Frida’s shows are always a sight to behold and your band is _muy maravilloso_!”

“ _Gracias_! You know, Frida misses having you around the studio. I think even Ceci misses having you stop by to borrow and lose her dresses! You should come visit and perform with us!”

Héctor frowned. “Ah, sorry, Tavo, but you know _Día de los Muertos_ is strictly spent with my family.”

Gustavo realized what his implications were and winced. “Sorry, Héctor. You know I didn’t mean anything by my offer.”  
“I know, and it’s alright. Any other day I would be glad to visit and play alongside you!”

“Excuse me,” Rosa politely interjected, shyly lifting a hand. “Did you say Frida? As in Frida Kahlo the artist Frida?”

Gustavo turned to her with a toothy smile. “Who else would I be talking about, _niña_?”

 

Rosa’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Miguel had mentioned meeting the renowned artist during his adventures in the Land of the Dead, describing her as incredibly talented yet eccentric, but she had also been very kind to and supportive of him and his dreams.

She had even told Miguel that he had the spirit of an artist after helping her come up with ideas to make one of her shows more impressive. Frida was beloved by all to the point of being part of the elite, A-list celebrities alongside Ernesto de la Cruz, El Santo, María Félix, and others in the Land of the Dead. Despite her status, Frida would much rather spend her time in the Arts District to work on her unique self-inspired portraits and stage shows than gamboling off to fancy parties.

Frida had even generously offered her assistance to Miguel and his dead family during their mission to retrieve Héctor’s photo that Ernesto had stolen so the boy could return home with it and put it on his family’s _ofrenda_ , where it rightfully belonged.

Needless to say, Rosa never expected to not only meet an acquaintance of one of the most influential people of Mexican history so soon after her arrival, but to also find out that her _Papá_ Héctor had special connections with her. Rosa was awestruck. She hoped that she would have a chance to meet Frida in person and thank her for her part in repairing her family and for being an overall amazing person.

 

“Say, Héctor, who’s this anyway? Is she another great-great grandchild of yours? I thought you had just the one?” Gustavo asked, the corners of his mouth dipping downwards into a frown. He sounded rather concerned about another child related to Héctor being in this world, and even more so about her being _dead_ as opposed to cursed.

Rosa felt subconscious and shrunk away some only for Héctor to embrace her from behind.

“Nope, I have _six_ of these _angeles preciosos_!” he announced proudly, giving her a comforting squeeze. “This is Rosa, Miguel’s cousin! Rosa this is Gustavo. He’s one of Frida’s musicians and a good buddy of mine.”

“Pleased to meet you, _Señor_ Gustavo.” Rosa shook the man’s hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, _Señorita_ Rosa!” Gustavo doffed his hat to her. “And please, you can just call me “Gustavo”! I’m assuming you’re a new arrival?” Rosa nodded. “Then welcome to the Land of the Dead! Don’t worry about understanding everything so soon; this place is a lot to take in all at once but just take your time and get yourself settled and used to the way this remarkable world of ours works. You have such a wonderful family looking after and helping you, so I have no doubts that you’ll have a hard time doing so. I wish you the best of luck all the same.”

“ _Gracias_ , _Señor_ Gustavo…I mean…Gustavo.”

Rosa’s eyes then fell upon his violin case. He noticed, his smile broadening a little.

“Do you play?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah…sort of. I mean, I’m not a professional like you,” Rosa admitted modestly with a tiny shrug. “I just started taking lessons after the music ban on my family was lifted. I did play the first song my cousin had learned to write alongside him and my older brother a couple  _Día de los Muertos_ ago. We did the same last year.”

“And, _Dios mío_ , were they spectacular performances!” Héctor threw in, absolutely glowing with pride by now from those particular memories as well as from the rapidly developed skills of three of his descendants, making Rosa blush. “You’d never know that Rosa was just starting out if you had heard her! Certainly she’s only improved since then!”

“Really now?” Gustavo hummed, looking thoughtfully at Rosa, then at his case, and finally back at her.

He held it out to her.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, _muchacha_.”

Rosa’s eyes enlarged, realizing what he wanted her to do. “Wh-what? Really?”

Gustavo nodded. “Your _Papá_ Héctor seems to have a whole lot of faith in you and he’s no liar…er, well, not _anymore_ , but if he says you have the skills to back up his claim, then I’d be greatly honored to have an aspiring _violinista_ play my violin.”

 

Rosa ogled the case, jaw slightly agape. Quivering, irresolute hands slowly reached for it. She hasn’t played or touched a violin since…before the incident. All of a sudden, a mind-stabbing memory burst into her mind, forcing her to recoil from the case with a yelp as if she had been burned by it.

Moaning as if she were in pain, Rosa clutched her head and slammed her eyes shut.

She then fell to her knees, the panicked yell from Héctor dulled by the sounds of snapping strings, wood shattering, her muffled screams, and jeers from her captors echoing throughout her skull.

She could still feel the ropes digging into her wrists and the heavy pressure of someone straddling her. She had been rendered helpless and forced to watch her precious instrument, still brand new, be reduced to splinters.

 

Rosa gasped as the memory faded, returning her to the present. She was panting heavily, her face blanched and eyes wide. Héctor’s worried face appearing in her line of vision made Rosa jump. Gustavo was standing behind him, watching her with his case now hanging by his side.

“ _Mija!_ Are you alright?” Héctor asked in concern, slowly reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. “Was it another memory?”

His granddaughter bit her lip and nodded while looking down at the ground, feeling rather embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She was ashamed that these memories kept plaguing her and that she couldn’t anything to prevent them.

“Oh Rosita, _cariñito_ , no! No, no, no!” Héctor enveloped her in his arms, holding her protectively with one hand on the back of her head and caressing it with mollifying motions. “You don’t have to apologize! None of what happened to you is your fault, _gatita_. You never asked for any of this. As unfortunate as it may sound, these recurring memories are something you simply cannot stop.

Believe me when I say that I would do anything to make them so you’re not hurting anymore, but I think it’s best if they keep happening. You’re only at the start of your recovery, and I’m not lying when I say that things _will_ get more difficult from this point on for a while.

However, I also believe that these resurfacing memories are a good thing. I know what happened to you was traumatic but you can’t keep trying to block them out, _bebita_. You’ll only end up hurting yourself even more. Your _familia_ is here for you every step it takes for you to heal and to get through this ordeal so don’t ever think you’re alone.”

Héctor planted a series of kisses on Rosa’s head. “You don’t have to feel embarrassed or scared, either. You come and talk to any one of us if you need to, _comprende_?” He felt Rosa nod against his chest and kissed her head one more time, giving her a final fatherly squeeze before breaking the hug.

 

Gustavo was waiting patiently for them to have their moment, smiling sympathetically at Rosa as Héctor carefully helped to her feet.

“ _Lo siento_ , Gustavo. I’m ready to play something if you still want me to.” Rosa quietly said as she dried her eyes.

“Only if you’re up for it, _chiquita_ ,” Gustavo responded kindly, not wanting to pressure her.

Rosa wordlessly stepped away from Héctor and took the case. She kneeled down to set it upon the ground. Next she undid the clasps and opened it. The sheen of the polished violin glistened in the moonlight. Rosa wistfully ran her fingers over the body; a pang of sadness seizing her heart when she remembered that her own violin was not only back in the living world, but it was back in the living world in irreparable pieces.

She quickly shook the feeling aside and took the violin out.

Héctor crouched next to her, rubbing her back. “What are you going to play, _gatita_?”

“I was thinking “Proud _Corazón_ ”? Do you think Miguel would mind if I did?”

“I’m sure he’d love for you to play one of his songs.” Héctor patted her shoulder. “Go for it and just do your best, Rosa. You can do this!”

 

For the first time since she got here, the teenager genuinely beamed at her grandfather, who returned it with a wink and amiable grin of his own. Rosa then stood with violin and bow in hand; Héctor moved to stand beside Gustavo, thumbing his suspender straps and smirking at him.

“You ready to have your _cabeza_ knocked off by the impeccable talents of my great-great granddaughter, Tavo?”

“If she’s as good as you’re making her out to be then I’m sure I’ll lose more than my head, _amigo_!”

Rosa flushed under the praise before taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly to soothe her nerves. She then placed the violin atop her shoulder, setting her chin on the chinrest and bow upon the strings.

With a final glance at her _Papá_ Héctor, who nodded encouragingly while giving her a double thumbs-up, she closed her eyes to help her concentrate and to drown out the ambiance except for Héctor and Gustavo, reveling in their comforting presence.

She launched into the song.

 

The intro started out beautifully and leisurely. Héctor watched with pure fondness as Gustavo grew more and more impressed with each well-executed note.

A few passers by paused once they entered the circle of tranquility that formed around Rosa as she played. Entranced, they mingled around the trio. As more captivated souls joined to watch and listen to the young violinist, a small crowd formed.

A few couples started dancing as Rosa picked up the tempo; effortlessly producing the faster string of notes and moving about herself, completely absorbed in the song. The crowd made sure they kept their distance as to not accidentally disrupt her.

Héctor was clapping his hands and tapping his foot along to the beat while Gustavo’s jaw was close to dropping off. He was utterly snowed by the talent before him. Rosa continued twirling and swaying, a blissful smile upon her face. It seemed to Héctor that she was lost in another world in that moment; which world that was he didn’t have to guess. His heart ached and his smile wavered.

 

At last, Rosa finished the song and opened her eyes, jumping as she did not expect to see the extra audience around her. Nervousness overcame her as she subconsciously clutched the violin’s neck.

To her relief and astonishment, acclamations and even some _gritos_ broke out, taking the teen even further by surprise. Rosa was delighted, nonetheless, and curtsied a few times to show her appreciation.

Another _grito_ that was far louder and more energetic than any of the ones before it sounded from behind her. Before she knew it, Rosa was swept into her grandfather’s arms as he laughed joyously and lifted her off her feet so that he could swing her around, eliciting giggles from his granddaughter.

“ _Bravissimo_ , _mija_! _Simplemente asombroso_!” He peppered her face with loving kisses, hugging her tighter.

The crowd “awwed” at the familial spectacle before casually dissipating, giving their final appraisals as they did.

After giving Rosa a few more kisses and an even tighter hug, Héctor finally set her back onto the ground with a gentle hand on top of her hand, stroking her hair. “I’m _so_ proud of you, _gatita_! Gustavo here nearly lost his jaw, you did so well!”

“”Well”?” Gustavo scoffed incredulously, coming up next to them to take Rosa’s hand and patting the back of it. “She was spectacular! Rosa, you truly have what it takes to be as much of a gifted musician as your cousin and _abuelo_!”

 

Rosa smiled shyly, tucking a lose strand of hair behind her head. “Well, thank you, Gustavo, but to tell you the truth…I’m not quite sure I want to be a musician.”

Rosa bit her lip, gripped her arm, and nervously looked up at Héctor, worried about how he’ll take her confession. Would he be sad or worse…disappointed?  Music had only just become important again to the Riveras, but with 13 years of living without it, Rosa had been pursuing other interests and goals about what she had wanted to become once she grew up.

Picking up the violin had been done more for a hobby and homage to her late great-great grandfather as well as to provide her a break from making shoes. She loved music, of course, and she enjoyed creating shoes with her family, but she never wanted to create a career out of either. Rosa had still been weighing her options before she had died.

And now she’ll never get the chance to see any of them come to fruition.

 

She waited with bated breath for her relative’s impending response.

 

Héctor was staring at her contemplatively, which did wonders for Rosa’s already frazzled nerves, but then his face broke into an understanding smile that instantly alleviated the girl’s anxiety, leaving her feeling slightly guilty about assuming his reaction. Héctor approached her, sitting on his knees, and grasped her shoulders, rubbing calming circles into them with his thumbs.

“Rosa, _mi preciosa, lindito ángel_. If you don’t want to become a musician, that is perfectly fine! No one ever said you had to! Becoming a musician is Miguel’s dream, but it doesn’t have to be yours. It doesn’t necessarily have to run in the family. You also don’t have to become a shoemaker if you don’t wish to do that, either. You choose whatever _you_ want to be, _mija_! Don’t ever let anyone deter you from _your_ dreams! Miguel had to learn that the hard way and look at what almost happened to him.”

Rosa shuddered. “I agree, but _Papá_ Héctor, unlike Miguel…I’m dead. My dreams have been destroyed the moment I took my last breath. _They_ made certain of that when they…” Rosa trailed off, not wanting to say what had been done to her. Her voice tapered to a despondent whisper. “I was forced to watch them as they smashed my violin.”

This heartbreaking detail, alone, made Héctor immediately wish something far worse than the Final Death upon those responsible for causing his baby girl so much anguish.

The pain they caused her would be nothing compared to the soul-consuming fear they will endure at his hands should they ever arrive in the Land of the Dead.

Even Gustavo looked like he wanted to enact justice–if his clenched jaw and fists and darkening eyes were anything to go by. He hadn’t been sure how Rosa had died, figuring it wasn’t his business to ask, but now that he knew that she had been _murdered_ , he was overcome with the need to protect the girl, despite only knowing her for less than an hour, and ensure that her killers got what they deserved. It was something he could give back to the man he so ruthlessly mistreated and made fun of for so many years.

 

Héctor pushed aside his indignation towards those _bastardos_ , silently signaling to Gustavo to do the same. The well-being of his granddaughter was the topmost priority; they could be angry later. Rosa was solemnly quiet as she placed the violin back in the protection of its case, closing the lid and the clasps before holding it out for Gustavo to take back. Much to her surprise, the older violinist chuckled as he shook his head and held up a hand.

“Keep it, _niña_.”

“ _Qué?_ B-but I can’t! It belongs to you and violins are _muy_ expensive!” Rosa was flabbergasted that Gustavo was so easily willing to just _give_ her his prized instrument.

“Maybe in the living world, but _mi familia_ manages to give me a new violin as an offering each _Día de Muertos_. I have many of them, so it’s not a problem. I insist!”

Rosa was rendered speechless as she just stood there, her mouth open and eyes wide, while still holding out the case.

Héctor chortled as he gently lowered his granddaughter’s arms. “What do you say, Rosa?”

Rosa snapped out of her daze, just managing to stutter out a quick thank you before launching herself at Gustavo. The man was caught off guard for a second before he wrapped his arms around her to return her hug. Héctor was looking on with tears welling up in his eyes. Gustavo noticed and smirked; a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes.

“ _Aye_ , don’t go all sentimental on us now, _Chorizo_!” Gustavo then addressed Rosa, saying in a mock exasperated way, “Your _Papá_ Héctor _always_ was such a sap. He would gush over just about _anything_.”

“Not true!” Héctor denied as he attempted to pretend he had been doing anything but getting choked up.

“Oh _really_?” Gustavo scoffed and gave him a pointed look. “Who was the one that saw a snake alebrije last week and just started _bawling_ like _un_ _bebé_ , hmm?”

“They don't have any arms!” Héctor wept dramatically, holding his hands up to his mouth. Gustavo cackled while Rosa smirked and looked at her grandfather in amused disbelief.

“ _Papá_ Héctor, did you really do that?”

“Eh-heh, well I can’t help that I’m a _bit_ sensitive,” Héctor shrugged sheepishly.

Gustavo snorted. “”A bit”?”

“Okay, okay, _a lot_!” Héctor harrumphed and crossed his arms, turning away to pout in a way that made him look like a stubborn 5-year old who didn’t get what they wanted rather than the physically 21-year old he was supposed to be.

 

And that’s what did it for Rosa.

It started out as a snicker but within seconds, the 14-year old had gone into a full-blown laughing fit that had Héctor and Gustavo staring at her with slight concern that was short-lived on the former’s part.

Héctor brimmed with elation at the sight of his great-great granddaughter actually laughing wholeheartedly for the first time since he met her. Her laughter was like a swarm of butterflies that tickled the space where his stomach once was; so gentle and wonderful.

 Rosa had some trouble standing, she was laughing so hard, so she leaned against the wall of the shop next to them.

“Easy there, _gatita_.” Héctor tittered and moved to help support her until her laughing subsided and she was able to stand upright again.

A few remaining giggles trickled from Rosa’s mouth while she cleared away the happy tears from her eyes. “ _Papá_ Héctor, you are so silly! I can’t believe you cried over something like that!”

Héctor shrugged a shoulder and ruffled her hair. “I just have a big heart, _mi querida_.”

“And it’s alright that you do! Most people today would rather prefer someone who’s as compassionate and considerate and sensitive like you!” Rosa assured him, hugging his arm.

“Though there is a thing called having _too_ much of a heart,” Gustavo quipped.

Héctor rolled his eyes. “Oh sure, if I didn’t have one, I’d be Ernesto de la Cruz!”

The two adults made disgusted faces at that then chuckled.

“Speaking of whom, whatever happened to him?” Rosa wondered aloud. “Miguel said that he never found out what became of him due to the circumstances at the time.”

Héctor shrugged. “He was knocked into a bell, the last I saw of him. As for where he is currently, I’m not sure. For all I know, he could still be under that bell or roaming the city, trying to keep a low profile. I bet my gold tooth that his soured reputation is doing wonders for his legacy. Quite frankly, I don’t care where Ernesto is, just as long as he stays far away from _mi familia_.” At this, Héctor snaked the arm Rosa had been holding around her and pulled her close, bowing his head to plant a kiss on her forehead.

“I heard his tower is being renovated into a shelter for the Nearly Forgotten,” Gustavo informed them, “so they’ll be more comfortable until their Final Death.”

 

Héctor’s heart tightened at that but his small smile and half-lidded expression said that he was pleased by such good news that would benefit his surrogate family in Shantytown.

As bittersweet as it was, they wouldn’t be living in squalor anymore and will be surrounded by amenities, warmth and love until their time came. While he regrets having lost contact with them after reuniting with his own family, Héctor never forgot about the people who had took him under their wing after he had been shunned and proceeded to adopt him into their close-knit community, nicknaming him Cousin Héctor, nor will he ever.

They might have been forgotten in life, but he would make sure their memories lived on in the afterlife. At that moment, Héctor made a promise to himself to visit them once Ernesto’s tower was converted and they got settled so he could tell them how incredibly thankful he is to them and for everything they had done for him.

He just hoped that they would still be around by then and that they wouldn’t feel any resentment towards him for essentially abandoning them.

 

“Well, it’s been a pleasure catching up with you, Héctor, but I must get home to rest up before the next rehearsal. Rosa, it was very nice meeting you! I’m sure we’ll see each other again, soon! You keep working on those sweet skills of yours and you’ll be a pro in no time!”

“ _Gracias_ , Gustavo! It was nice meeting you, too, and I promise to take special care of your violin!”

“You mean _your_ violin, _chica_ , but _de nada_. I’m certain that you will!”

Héctor clapped Gustavo on the back. “You take care, Tavo. Break a leg with the rehearsals and the show! Be sure to tell me all about it when we meet up again!”

“ _Gracias_ , _mi amigo_. I promise to do so! _Adiós_!”

The two men shook hands before Gustavo took his leave.

Héctor then took Rosa’s hand once more. “Let’s go, _niña_. We have to get back home before Imelda starts to worry, though I suspect she might already be a _little_ cross with me for leaving the shop unattended and for being out later than I meant to be.” Héctor winced.

“Will she whack you with a _chancla_ like _Abuelita_?”

“A boot, to be exact.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Héctor agreed, shuddering as he ushered her along.

 

 **~*** ***~**

 

They’ve been walking for about half-an-hour when Rosa felt the grip her _Papá_ Héctor had on her hand unexpectedly become firm and protective; the reason becoming apparent to her once she noticed the drastic change to their surroundings.

The vibrant and picturesque city became very desaturated and depressive relatively quickly; the grimier buildings more dilapidated and even less structurally sound. Various bits of trash (Rosa swore she saw fragments of _bone_ , as well) littered the ground almost everywhere while torn, soiled _papel picardos_ and broken, burnt out lightbulbs either hung between or down the sides of buildings.

The few lampposts that weren’t shattered or terribly mangled poorly illuminated the area, adding more to the dark and dreary atmosphere. Quite a few loitering, shifty-looking skeletons eyed the two of them as they passed by. Rosa gulped nervously as she desperately attempted to avoid their gazes.

“Stay close to me, _mija_ ,” Héctor instructed in a low voice as he pulled his granddaughter so close to him she was nearly standing on his feet, his arms now wrapped protectively around her. He frowned deeply, his eyes cautiously darting around, sending icy glowers at anyone whose eyes lingered for far _too_ long on Rosa.

“Wh-where are we?”

“Just like in the living world, the Land of the Dead has its fair share of iniquitous souls; not even dying caused them to abandon their immoralities. They just decided to seclude themselves in their own territories throughout the city. Even if we’re already dead and can’t get severely injured, they are still _very_ dangerous and should _always_ be steered clear of. Unfortunately that’s easier said than done since more of them claim or expand their territories.”

“So then why are we walking through one of them?”

“Because one of those territories happens to border the block our _casa_ is on.”

“O-oh.” Rosa gulped nervously.

She had a disturbingly clear idea of what kind of immoralities Héctor was referring to and didn’t dare think further on what would happen if any one of these skeletons got their hands on them. Luckily Héctor was adamant about preventing that from happening.

 

As she tried to keep her mind free of those thoughts, Rosa’s eyes fell upon a small gathering of 15 to 17 year olds that were just up the road from them. Most of them were smoking cigarettes while others swung around cans and bottles of beer and tequila. They looked and sounded drunk and were undoubtedly having crude conversations with one another.

The sensation of a palpitating heartbeat pounded against her ribs as her throat constricted. Things worsened when their eyes shifted to meet hers once she and Héctor got close enough to them.

 

_“You should really watch where you’re walking, novia. You know how dangerous these streets can be for a linda chiquita such as yourself.”_

_“It seems like it’s our lucky day, fellas! It’s been a looooong time since any of us had a good time!”_

Rosa’s eyes glazed over, pupils contracting, and her body stiffened. It was suddenly really difficult to breathe; her heartrate increasing and her bones quaking. Hyperventilation was beginning to set in. She fumbled for Héctor’s vest, grasping the fabric as if her life depended on it, alarming him. He hurried to come around to kneel in front of her.

“Rosa?! _Mírame_! What’s wrong, _mija_? Are you alright?!” He delicately cupped her face in both his hands but, like a deer caught in headlights, she was fixated on something straight ahead and she was only getting more and more petrified each passing moment. It wouldn’t be long before she went into a full-blown panic attack.

Héctor turned his head and it was only when he spotted the rag-tag group of teenagers that he knew why Rosa was reacting in such a way. They were showing far too much interest in Rosa than he cared for–a couple inappropriate catcalls he heard had him indignantly grinding his teeth. He didn’t want to venture a guess as to what their intentions for her were.

 

The extreme ire Héctor had been trying very hard to keep at bay was resurfacing but he gladly welcomed it this time, for he now had a reasonable excuse to unleash it.

Héctor scooped his distressed descendant up into his arms and held her so that her face was hidden against the crook of his neck, that way should he wind up confronting those delinquents face-to-face, she wouldn’t have to. He took off his hat and placed it on her head to further shield her.

Rosa was whimpering softly and shaking, seemingly lost in her ghastly memories, but she encircled her arms around her great-great grandfather’s neck, seeking sanctuary.

Héctor gladly gave it to her in the form of slowly rubbing allaying circles on her back and whispering condolences to her. He then prepared to walk forward, only getting one step when a chillingly familiar voice made him nearly stagger to a halt.

 

“Well, well, well. As I live and breathe, if it isn’t Héctor Rivera. I never expected to see you, of all people, here.”

Had he still had any, Héctor’s blood would have frozen.

He hissed under his breath, “ _Mierda_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, who let Ernesto out from under the bell? >:v Can we seal him up in another one and toss it into the Marianas Trench? 
> 
> Also, I love Gustavo's character and design so much. I figured he and Papá Héctor would make amends and become close friends after the truth gets out! He seems like he enjoys being around children, as well, considering how nice he was to Miguel and how cooperative he and his band was following his music advice! Maybe he was a father or even an uncle? 
> 
> Fun fact: his voice actor (as well as the Mariachi's) is Lombardo Boyar, who had voiced Lars Rodriguez from "Rocket Power", a show I watched all the time as a kid!!
> 
> ALSKDJFHG, I've babbled too much. Thank you for reading!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: 4/1/2019- Weird date to post this, but chapter 4 IS nearly complete, I just have a bit longer to go on it before I begin proofreading and then I'll upload it!
> 
> I appreciate everyone's patience with me and for not giving up on this fic! I also have a one-shot coming up soon, as well, for an extra treat!!! :) Thank you!!!!
> 
> *****
> 
> Holy impala, this chapter sure ran away on me! :0 I didn't intend for it to get as long as it did but, since 6th grade English, I've had the habit of writing more than I need to! I just had so many things planned out for this chapter and was so excited to write them that I couldn't separate it! You've all been sooooo incredibly amazing and generous with your kudos and comments, I can't thank you enough!! So you get the equivalent of two chapters in one as a token of my appreciation!! Again, feel free to correct my Spanish! 
> 
> ALSO, I fixed a slight error in the timeline because I'm a dummy when it comes to keeping track of numbers. This story takes place a year after the end of "Coco", so it's 2019! We're in the future! :0 Papá Héctor is 118 and-a-half and, for simplicity sake, Miguel and Rosa are the same age, though Rosa is a few months older. I'll most likely be making small changes later, I just got tired of editing. I think I got everything as best as I can get it, though! Hope you enjoy! ;v;

The news came as an unexpected and unpleasant surprise to the living Rivera family, who had been in state of panic and fear for the better part of the day. One of their youngest members, Rosa, had been expected home that afternoon after her morning violin practice session, but she never made it back. The family tried not to worry or jump to conclusions, choosing to think of possible reasons as to why she was a couple hours late.

Perhaps Rosa decided to linger around Mariachi Plaza and then got caught up with some of her friends? Then again, if that was the case, she would have called to let them know that she would be home late. Evening was now upon Santa Cecilia and zero calls from Rosa were heard, making her family more anxious and worried.

If it wasn’t already before, it was now evident to a frightening degree that something bad had happened. This fear was affirmed when the local police showed up on their doorstep to notify them that a body had been found unceremoniously thrown into a dumpster behind a diner. The cause of death was a single stab wound to the back that was deep enough to show the severed spinal cord.

With Santa Cecilia being a small town where almost everyone knew one another, it was quick to deduce Rosa’s identity.

Being the most affected by this specific detail, Gloria and Berto took it the hardest and were beyond distraught. While Luisa and Enrique consoled his wife, Berto demanded to know who had done such a despicable thing to their baby girl with his mother backing him up while waving her _chancla_ in the authorities’ faces.

Undaunted, the police said that information was unavailable to them at the time and that some samples were presently being taken in for further investigation. They had reason to believe foul play was involved and also suspected a more heinous crime to be a possible motive, though that part they wouldn’t know for sure until the lab results came back. The family would be allowed to claim Rosa’s body after the autopsy was complete.

To say the Riveras were outraged would be the understatement of the year. They were widely known to be a very tight-knit group and anyone who dared to mess with either one of them would soon be at the mercy of a large clan of vindictive shoemakers. They wanted immediate and punitive action and the police had assured them that they were going to be working nonstop on the case and that, should they be located and apprehended, the perpetrators would be facing heavy charges...possibly even the death penalty.

Elena was more than willing to go searching for the culprits herself, her shoe in hand but had been highly advised not to or she would be charged with interfering with the investigation. The police bid the family farewell but not before promising to keep them updated with any future leads or results of the lab tests.

This left the Riveras with their only options: waiting and planning a funeral. The second would have to come later, though, for no one was mentally or emotionally ready to handle such a grievous task just yet.

 

Elena busied herself in the kitchen to prepare dinner, her anger masking her sorrow. Cooking was her usual go-to stress relief, but the pain was too deep to be distracted from, especially when she would have one less mouth to feed.

When it came to her loved ones, Elena could be very malicious towards anyone who threatened or did them any harm but even if she did march right out those doors to deal with her granddaughter’s murderers, it would not bring her back.

Plus she couldn’t leave her family during such a tragedy; it was not the Rivera way and who was she to break a five generation long tradition about sticking together during hardships? So the next best thing was seeing to that her family had nourishing home-cooked meals to keep their strengths up. They were going to need all they could get if they hoped to get through this.

Gloria was taken to her and her husband’s bedroom by Luisa and Carmen while Franco, Enrique, and Berto discussed funeral arrangements in the living room. The front door opened and Miguel stepped inside along with his _primos_ , Abel, Manny, and Benny. The four of them had spent the day having some quality time together; their laughter signified that they had much fun.

Their merriment subsided once they noticed the solemn atmosphere and grim faces of their relatives. Something was wrong. The usually energetic and loud twin toddlers became uncharacteristically quiet when they realized this and ran over to their _papá_ , who immediately scooped them up into his arms; holding them with anguished desperation as he started crying.

Regardless of not knowing the reason why he was so upset, his sons’ eyes welled up and they hugged him back as best as they could with their tiny arms. They did their best to clear away his incessant tears all the while telling him that it was okay and that they loved him so much. This only made Berto cry harder and hold them tighter. Miguel and Abel looked to their _abuelita_ for an explanation with racing hearts and lumps in their throats.

Elena shoved aside her animosity for the _cabrons_ that took away the tender, young life of her _dulce bebita_ so she could prepare herself to tell her grandsons the difficult truth. It only became harder when her Miguelito asked where Rosa was. Berto stood, Manny and Benny still in his arms, and hurried out of the room.

Enrique had a feeling that his older brother didn’t want to be around to hear about his daughter being murdered a second time. Miguel and Abel were even more uneasy and confused. Franco sat them down on the couch then stood behind it while grasping their shoulders comfortingly. With Enrique’s assistance, Elena brought her grandsons up to speed on Rosa’s death.

Their reactions were drastically different from each other’s. Abel cried out in angry denial as he jumped to his feet, startling Franco so much that he stumbled backwards but remained standing. Miguel was lost in a disassociated state, having been rendered silent and feeling as if he was dying all over again. His breathing hitched, his eyes gawking blankly at the floor. He felt like Pepita in her alebrije form was sitting on his chest.

 

Rosa was dead?? _Murdered_? No, no, no! It…it couldn’t be! He had just talked to her that morning! What could have possibly happened in just a few short hours? Miguel was vaguely aware of his father embracing him and talking to him as well as his grandparents trying to pacify Abel, but he couldn’t make out any of their words for his mind was too muddled with thoughts about his cousin being _gone_.

His stomach was tying itself in knots the more his mind wrapped around her being forcibly taken from the living world far sooner than she should have left it…and by the hands of someone who was ruthless enough to hurt a child, no less.

For a split second, Miguel wondered who could be so heartless, but then remembered that Ernesto de la Cruz had almost killed him twice. Not to mention the news often broadcasted horror stories about children from all over the world being kidnapped, tortured, and killed so it wasn’t exactly a farfetched concept–more like a hard pill to swallow and every parent’s worst fear.

The only small comfort that Miguel had was knowing exactly where Rosa’s soul had departed to and who she was with; having no doubts that she was welcomed with open arms, suffocating hugs, a plethora of kisses, and more love than any one person would know what to do with.

He wondered what she would think of _Papá_ Héctor and _Mamá_ Imelda. Miguel knew they would dote on her as much as they did with him, children being their Achilles heel, but he wasn’t sure how Rosa would react upon meeting her spiritual ancestors at last or how she would take to the Land of the Dead’s exquisite and exuberant nature or about becoming a permanent inhabitant. Miguel could only hope that his dead family was helping her the best that they could.

Of course, even being privileged with the sacred knowledge of the existence of his ancestors and the underworld did little to lessen the pain of losing someone he saw as a big sister for most of his life. Miguel could only imagine how Abel was feeling. As far as he can remember, his oldest cousin had been very protective of his baby sister.

He chased away many boys that dared to even look in her direction, much to her annoyance. This only worsened once she turned 13 and started experimenting with dating. While the two quarreled as any sibling would do, Abel and Rosa still had a tight bond and would defend the other fervidly when they needed to. Overprotectiveness was a proud Rivera trait, after all.

Despite these happy and somewhat amusing memories, Miguel couldn’t shake off the gruesome reality that Rosa’s death was caused by the cold-blooded hands of someone–or some _people_ –and it left him feeling rather ill and dizzy. So he silently excused himself to his room to try to get a bit of rest before dinner.

 

His father and grandparents didn’t protest.

 

Oh his way down the hall, Miguel noticed that the door to his _prima’s_ room was cracked; light seeped through the slight gap, telling him that someone was in there. He cautiously approached and peeked inside. He saw his _Tío_ Berto sitting on the edge of his daughter’s bed while holding what looked like a weathered brown tabby cat stuffed animal.

Manny and Benny must have been given to their mother before Berto had decided to come in here. Had they been told the news, as well? How had they taken it? Miguel remembered that they had been pretty upset when _Mamá_ Coco had passed, but who knows how they were handling the loss of their sister?

Miguel’s heart clenched when he heard mournful sobs coming his uncle. He slowly pushed the door open further, the hinges squeaking audibly, and walked inside. Berto paid his entrance no mind, keeping his attention on the stuffed cat, of which Miguel realized had been the one Rosa was gifted to by her parents on her fourth birthday.

She had been so enamored by the gift that she dubbed him _Señor_ Whiskerton and practically dragged him everywhere she went. The only time she parted with her favorite toy was when her _mamá_ washed him for her, only for him to get dusty hours later. As she grew older, _Señor_ Whiskerton became a mere object of nostalgia that she kept tucked away on the corner of her bed where he would be safe from any danger of getting dirty or torn.

Miguel sat close to Berto and nuzzled him. This time his uncle acknowledged his nephew and set _Señor_ Whiskerton on his lap before embracing Miguel just as tightly as he had with his sons moments ago.

This was how Elena found them minutes later when she was gathering her broken family for dinner, her heart aching when she heard their crying and reassurances to each other that they’ll get through this like always. When everyone was seated around the large table, they tried hard not to think about there now being two vacant chairs.

 

**~* *~**

Héctor had to wonder if La Muerte was in an exceptionally bad mood that day. The simple task of taking Rosa home was proving to be more difficult than he imagined. The run-in with Gustavo was the only obstacle he was hoping to come across but, of course, things for him never seem to go as planned.

Still, he was not going to let this particular interference stop him. So, pretending as if he hadn’t just heard the voice that felt like a hot knife stabbing through his heart, Héctor pressed on while securing his hold on his precious cargo. He briefly took notice that the teenagers had taken off somewhere, which encouraged him to pick up the pace. Clacking bare bones on the cobblestone followed him.

Héctor growled inwardly, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, come now, Héctor. Don’t be like that. It’s been a while since we last saw each other, after all. I just want to talk. We _are_ still best friends, are we not?”

This did it for the young musician. He froze dead in his tracks, mentally apologizing to his granddaughter for jostling her, and whipped around to point an accusative finger at the condemned fraud.

“We stopped being best friends the night you _murdered_ me and _stole_ my songs, Ernesto!” he snapped, chest heaving and eyes blazing. “I have no desire to _ever_ talk to you, _especially_ after what you did to Miguel!”

Now that he was face-to-face with the 122-year old former celebrity, Héctor visibly cringed upon seeing just how drastically different Ernesto appeared since the last he had saw of him. Rather than a glittering, stark-white mariachi uniform, he wore tattered rags that hung over his broad skeletal frame and a filthy, holey cloak.

His feet, now lacking the polished pristine boots, were bare and tarnished with muck and dirt. His once suave, proudly maintained, and expertly styled black wig was disheveled with a thick layer of oil coating it, giving it an overall wild and wilted look to it. It clung crookedly to his malformed skull, which was the most unnerving thing about him.   

Most of the left side was caved in with chunks either missing or sloppily glued in place. The eyeball on that side threatened to pop out as it bulged in its misshapen socket. His mouth was cracked into a Glasgow grin with his jaw threatening to detach at any given moment.

Smaller cracks decorated the other half of Ernesto’s face, marring the once ornate, silver treble clef and forte note markings on his cheekbone and chin. Héctor could see a few more cracks that spread across the vertebrae of his neck. A couple of ribs that peeked out from underneath the cloak were fractured in various places while some were missing altogether.

It would appear that the bell had done more damage than Héctor could have hoped. He smirked smugly.

 

“You’re not looking so well, Ernesto. The life of a _vagabundo_ really does not suit you.”

Ernesto’s eyes darkened, though all intimidation was ruined by the ridiculousness that his popping eyeball presented.

“It’s _your_ fault that my reputation is _ruined_ for eons to come, Héctor! Yours and that…that snotty _hijo de puta_ grandson!” he snarled.

Now it was Héctor’s expression that turned thunderous.

“I would take care in choosing your next words carefully, if I were you,” he warned. “That’s my great-great grandson and great-granddaughter-in-law you’re talking about. I will not let you get away with insulting them or anyone else in _mi familia_.”

Ernesto rolled his eyes, his bad one more or less rolling loosely on its own, and snorted apathetically.

“You were always the soft one, Héctor. It is little wonder that you would never have made it in the music business without me. _I_ had what it took to be assertive so that I wouldn’t be pushed around or taken advantage of. I knew what it took to draw in crowds and put on a performance that would be talked about for generations!

I even had the chops to act _and_ do my own stunts. All you knew how to do was write songs and play guitar. Unfortunately, my delusional _amigo_ , those would have only taken you so far and wouldn’t have helped you sustain a living for your family for long. Just look where it got you.”

“Where, killed by my childhood friend whom I saw as a brother? Shunned by my own family, leaving me unable to cross the bridge for 96-years, making my afterlife a living–” Héctor’s eyes flicked to Rosa for a second, “–heck and putting me in the claws of the Final Death? Yeah, you’re a true _amigo!_ ” Héctor spat with dry sarcasm.

 

Ernesto was about to snark back when a mewling sound interrupted him. Héctor instantly shifted his focus to his _tataranieta_ …something his ex-partner was not happy about. Any attention diverted from him made his temper flare.

Héctor simply ignored him as he paced around in a small circle while rubbing Rosa’s back soothingly. His deep, fatherly voice whispered consolatory words in hopes of chasing away her terrorizing visions. It worked almost miraculously for her trembles lessened. She wrapped her arms around his neck more securely, sniffling.

Ernesto was watching the scene with sheer revulsion.

“You’ve taken to babysitting sniveling, wayward orphans, now?”

Héctor’s hold became more protective and he shot a sharp glare at him. “She’s not an orphan. She has a family that I am trying to get her back home to.”

“How responsible of you to do so by carrying her through one of the most dangerous parts of the city.”

“It’s not like we had much of a choice.”

“ _Papá_ Héctor, who are you talking to?”

Rosa’s visions waned, allowing her to catch the tail-end of their conversation. She lifted her head, the hat falling away from her face, and twisted her upper body around to see who their company was. She squinted as she tilted her head curiously, trying to place a name to his face that, despite being horrendously malformed, seemed vaguely familiar to her.

““ _Papá_ ”?” Ernesto grimaced. “You mean to say you have _another_ brat that’s related to you? The one was bad enough.” He noted the violin case. “And I suppose she wants to be a musician, too,” he added sardonically.

It was then that he realized something far more interesting about the girl. She was a skeleton. The slasher smile that made his scarred mouth even more unsettling chilled Héctor to the core.

 “And by the looks of it, fate wasn’t too kind to her. How…unfortunate. What’s your story, _chica_?”

Ernesto approached, leaning uncomfortably close to Rosa while reaching a hand out to cup her chin. Her flinching at the unfamiliar touch spurred Papa Wolf Héctor into backpedaling a few steps while fixing the other man with a glare that could freeze water.

“ _Don’t_ talk to her and _definitely_ don’t touch her!” he hissed. “What happened is none of your business. She’s been through too much today and I only want to get her away from here and home where she’ll be safe!”

Ernesto calmly backed off, holding his hands up, faux sympathy etched on his features and in his voice. “Of course, of course. This is no place for a mere child, so I understand completely.”

 

At that moment, Rosa’s face lit up with recognition, finally placing Ernesto’s identity from her memory of his statue that had once stood tall in the center of Mariachi Plaza. With sudden courage that manifested from her hatred towards the once worshipped musician spawned from the tales Miguel told about his duplicity and evil deeds, she squirmed out of Héctor’s arms, despite his protests. Rosa had him hold her violin case as she bravely approached Ernesto, giving him a scrutinizing look.

“You’re Ernesto de la Cruz, aren’t you?”

The man in question glowered at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes as he straightened to his full height while clenching his fists. Héctor worriedly hovered very close behind his granddaughter, ready to pull her away should the larger skeleton try anything to hurt her.

“I am. What’s it to you?”

Rosa didn’t respond. Instead, she just pursed her lips, simply nodded at the confirmation, and nonchalantly turned around, confusing both adults. Then, with lightning speed that caught them off guard, she took off her shoe and, with a well-aimed swing of her arm, whacked Ernesto’s skull. It spun around so fast, it nearly flew off his neck.

“ _That_ was for hurting my _Papá_ Héctor and for trying to murder my cousin, _burro_!”

Ernesto yelped and stumbled backwards from the sudden attack while Héctor just recoiled with a “yikes” expression and body gesture. Clearly Rosa had inherited her great-great grandmother’s habit of slapping people in the head with footwear as well as her precise aim and strength. Héctor knew Imelda would be proud and couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, feeling that way about her himself.

 

Ernesto reached up to stop his head; his loose eye finally popping out of the socket and onto the ground, forcing the man to stumble after it. Rosa and Héctor cackled at the spectacle. After finally retrieving the runaway organ and shoving it back where it belonged as best as he could, Ernesto pivoted and stormed towards Rosa; his fists shaking and his face manic and livid. The teen just relentlessly held her ground and readied to deliver another slap with her flat.

“How _dare_ you, you little _puta!_ ” Ernesto reached out for her once more, this time as if he was going to strangle her.

Seeing the impending danger to his young charge, Héctor threw himself between Ernesto and Rosa, his face scrunched up in a fierce scowl. He used one arm to shield Rosa while the other prevented Ernesto from getting any closer. It remained rigid and unrelenting no matter how hard the larger skeleton’s chest shoved against it at his attempts to get at the girl.

Oh, how her bones looked so thin and so _very_ breakable…

“That’s enough, Ernesto! You will _not_ lay a single finger on her!” Héctor growled.

“No one dares hit the greatest musician to ever have lived and gets away with it!” Ernesto barked, his venomous gaze locked onto the incriminator glaring back at him from the safety of behind her grandfather.

“You never were the greatest!” she quipped. “You had to _steal_ your talent from a real _músico_ and look where that got _you_ : crushed by a bell not once, but _twice_! Karma bit your sorry butt big time!”

 “Rosa…” Héctor softly warned, turning his head to give her a look that said to keep quiet and let him handle the situation.

She was quick to obey. Héctor faced Ernesto again.

“I won’t deny that you deserved it and neither she nor I will apologize. You’ve done far too much damage to my family and to myself for me to even consider forgiving you, Ernesto. Had you complied with reason and had even an ounce of empathy when I got homesick and wanted to leave, none of this would have happened.

I could have gone home to Imelda and Coco where I belonged instead of becoming the most hated and forgotten member of the family. My daughter wouldn’t have had to grow up without a father. My wife wouldn’t have had to become a widow and form a business to support herself and our child.

I could have met my grandchildren when they were born, possibly even my _great_ -grandchildren. I could have grown old with the love of my life and passed on with her so we would arrive here _together_.

What’s more, the music ban would have _never_ existed. Miguel would never have had to risk his life coming here to get a blessing that would allow him to fulfill his dream–a dream that _you_ inspired, might I add–simply because he thought _you_ were his great-great grandfather. You were his idol and inspiration, Ernesto. You should have heard how elated he sounded everytime he talked about you.”

Héctor paused, taking a deep breath to calm his rising anger and letting it out slowly before continuing. “Miguel has watched your movies so many times that he actually taught himself how to play guitar through them. He wanted to prove to you that he was worthy of your blessing by joining a competition, regardless of his life being on the line.

And how is it that you repaid him? By carelessly tossing him away like _basura_ because you saw him as a threat to your reputation! Had you just _asked_ me when we were in that motel room _,_ I would have been more than happy to allow you use my songs, maybe even possibly write more to send to you. Instead you chose to go down a dark path…one that eventually led to your downfall in both life and death.”

 

While Ernesto was looking at him in incredulous silence, Rosa was staring up at her grandfather with astonishment. She never knew he was capable of getting so scarily serious. He seemed like an entirely different person!

Ernesto seemed like he wanted to say something to rebut his former friend’s rather lengthy “the reason you suck” speech, but was unable to find the words, much to his chagrin. So he reluctantly shut his mouth into a tight-lipped frown. His eyes darted to Rosa again but Héctor pushed her further behind him and out of his sight. Ernesto snorted.

“You best keep a close eye on your kid, Héctor, especially around these parts. There are some pretty nasty characters living around here with young children being special favorites to them. There’s a high market for their bones, you know. Something about youthful energy being trapped in the marrow that can be harvested for various mystical purposes…or so I’ve heard.” Ernesto shrugged indifferently and turned his back on the two.

He smirked when he heard Rosa gasp sharply. Having lost all bravado upon hearing the thinly veiled threat, her hands fearfully gripped Héctor’s arm. Héctor felt her shaking and wanted nothing more than to punch Ernesto right then and there.

He refrained from doing so in case it led to a fight that he didn’t want to subject Rosa to. So he just furrowed his brows intensely, his mouth twitching as he held back from spurting a flurry of profanity. Ernesto met his piercing gaze with his own smug one before he suddenly started laughing.

“Oh, Héctor. When it comes to your family, you tend to get so overprotective. It’s quite… _adorable_.” He sneered, shaking his head.

“Was your plan to just harass us? There’s nothing “adorable” about terrifying and threatening my granddaughter. You need to leave _now_.” Héctor demanded briskly.

“Just as well, I have some things to take care of anyway. It’s been a real pleasure catching up with you, my friend.”

“The feeling is _not_ mutual and we are _not_ friends. I have made this very clear multiple times.”

Ernesto made a dismissive noise and strode past the two Riveras; Héctor kept Rosa behind him as he turned to watch him go. When Ernesto got a couple feet away, he paused to look back.

“Welcome to the Land of the Dead, _señorita_. I hope your stay here is…memorable.” Ernesto winked at Rosa before continuing on down the sidewalk, disappearing into an alleyway, whistling his bastardized version of “Remember Me”.

 

As soon as Ernesto was out of sight, Héctor relaxed considerably; slumping over while releasing a heavy sigh. That was one confrontation he could have done without. He felt worn out by it. Rosa’s hold on his arm reminded him of her presence and he turned to her in concern. She looked less scared now but he still placed a comforting hand on her cheek while looking her over for any minute sign of injury.

“Are you alright, _mija_?”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” She chuckled. “You really told him, _Papá_ Héctor. Though I suppose I shouldn’t have antagonized him to begin with, huh?” She winced sheepishly.

Héctor gave her an unimpressed look. “No, you should never provoke someone, Rosa.”

She looked down, feeling shameful for doing just that. Her chin was lifted by a gentle finger. Héctor was looking at her fondly.

“But you should always stick up for your family.”

Rosa perked up with a big smile and Héctor grinned back. He then snickered. “That’s one heck of an arm you got there, _gatita_. You truly are your _Mamá_ Imelda’s great-great granddaughter! She had done the exact same thing to Ernesto once before, you know!”

Rosa laughed. ”I can believe that!” She giggled once more before a troubled expression crossed her features. “ _Papá_ Héctor? What Ernesto said…a-about people here kidnapping children and harvesting their bones…is that…true?”

 

Héctor’s breath hitched at the question. He really didn’t want to frighten Rosa by telling her the ghastly truth, but he also couldn’t lie to her. She had to know for her safety so that she didn’t wind up wandering and discovering for herself later on, something he fiercely hoped she would never get the chance to.

“ _Sí,_ _mija_. As much as I wish he wasn’t, it’s the one thing Ernesto was being honest about. So you have to _promise_ me that you won’t go _anywhere_ without me or any one of your family. Can you do that for me, Rosa?” Héctor was practically begging at this point, but it was very important to him to him to keep his precious girl safe.

“ _Sí_ , _Papá_ Héctor. I won’t go anywhere without supervision.”

“ _Promesa_?” Héctor held out his hand. Rosa nodded and shook it with asseveration.

“ _Promesa_!”

Héctor was immensely relieved and gave her hand a squeeze before pulling her into an affectionate hug, kissing her face on several points afterwards.

“Well, we should get going, _gatita_. We’re nearly home!”

“Finally, my feet are killing me,” Rosa joked, earning a hearty laugh from her ancestor who ruffled her hair then grabbed his hat from the ground. He put it back on his head before taking Rosa’s hand and leading her down the street.

They passed by the alley they had first spotted the group of teenagers standing near and the one Ernesto had disappeared into but heeded no mind for they were too occupied joking around with one another. Had they been more vigilant, they would have seen that Ernesto was still around and scheming with the teens. They looked up as the Riveras passed. Ernesto’s eyes trailed after Rosa.

“You know what to do, don’t you?” he said to the leader of the gang, who scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you worry about it, _Señor_ de la Cruz. We’ll take care of the _chica_ like you want just as long as you keep your end of the bargain!”

“How can we trust him?” asked a second teen skeptically. “He _did_ murder his best friend, so who’s to say he won’t backstab us?”

“Plus he was stripped of his fortune and fame,” agreed a third. “How do you expect to reward us if you can’t even get near your precious tower?”

“Details!” Ernesto roared, making them jump slightly. “I’ll work them out later but I promise that you will get paid. Just worry about getting the job done and don’t ask anymore questions!”

“Fine. No need to get your _pantalóns_ in a twist, _vejestorio_. But be warned, if you double-cross us, it’s not just that _chica’s familia_ you’ll have to be worried about.”

With that and some sneers and mocking laughs, the teens sauntered off, leaving Ernesto alone to briefly ruminate on just how low he would stoop for petty revenge.

The answer was that he was already beyond the sinking point and that he would go further if it meant making the whole Rivera family suffer. He was seizing his moment and nothing would get in the way of that.

 

**~* *~**

 

Héctor was visibly relieved when he and Rosa, at long last, reached the block the home and business of the dead Rivera family was situated on. It would only take them ten minutes more to get to the house, but they were out of the danger area and things noticeably got colorful and livelier once more.

Rosa’s traumatic memories also seemed to be the last thing on her mind, for the time being. She was currently walking with a spring in her step as she happily greeted almost everyone they walked by. Héctor adoringly watched his granddaughter, reveling in her change of mood and happy to see her look so carefree and relaxed, reminding him so much of Miguel.

He allowed her to stray ahead of him, just as long as she stayed where he could see her. Héctor was positive that nothing could possibly go wrong now…only for fate to, once again, make a liar out of him.

           

Rosa had stopped to admire a row of marigold bushes when she was startled by a loud scream that sounded like a woman being murdered. This was her only split-second warning before something brightly colored and furry roughly crashed into her–or _through_ her, to be precise–and sent her bones flying and scattering everywhere. She heard Héctor cry out her name, but she couldn’t discern where his voice was coming from for her vision was suddenly obscured by bright orange petals.

“ _Papá_ Héctor!” she hollered, on the verge of hyperventilating from the unforeseen attack and being unable to feel the rest of her body. “Help! I-I can’t see anything! I can’t _move_ anything!!”

A shuffle of feet sounded close by and she suddenly felt her skull being picked up and maneuvered so that she was now looking up at her grandfather’s panicked face.

“Shh, it’s alright, _mija_! This sort of thing happens all the time in the Land of the Dead!” Héctor hurriedly assured with a crooked smile.

“ _What_ sort of thing?!”

“Being knocked to pieces! Since we’re not restricted by flesh or anything like that, we skeletons can easily disassemble and reassemble our bodies!”

“B-but I don’t know how to do that! Where’s the rest of me?!” Rosa sniffed.

“Eeeeehhh, all over _but_ ,” he quickly added when she looked horrified at that, “like I said, it’s very easy to pull yourself back together! You just have to concentrate! Here, I’ll show you!”

Héctor set Rosa’s skull upon one of the bushes so that she was still facing him, watching curiously. Héctor then readied himself for the demonstration, which included making a show of shaking his bones out with verbal sound effects and flipping his skull into a somersault before it landed neatly back on his neck, his hat somehow staying put through it.

Next, Héctor’s body quite literally collapsed into a pile of bones and clothes; his torso remained upright and balanced on part of his spine with one arm waving at Rosa and the other holding his skull into the air like a showman. Rosa laughed when he waggled his eyebrows with a cheesy grin and tossed her a wink.

Finally, Héctor’s body parts clattered and moved individually to their own accord; shifting and snapping together like a 3-D puzzle until he was almost whole again. Héctor replaced his skull before making his torso bounce up to reconnect with the rest of his spine that was attached to his pelvis and legs.

He concluded the demo with a little spin that made his suspender straps whip around, before striking a “ta-da” pose complete with jazz hands and another huge, goofy grin.

“See, _gatita_? It’s that easy! For newcomers it can take a lot of concentration but eventually you’ll be able to do it without much effort! Try it!”

“Alright, here goes nothing.”

Rosa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure how this whole reassembling thing worked, but she focused on imaging herself being in one piece with everything where it should be.

“That’s it!!” she heard Héctor exclaim encouragingly followed by the skittering of various objects scraping across the ground. She opened her eyes and gasped as she saw her own bones moving and joining together and rightfully at that!

“I’m doing it, _Papá_ Héctor! I’m doing it!” Rosa was delighted as she watched more of herself connect together.

Héctor was applauding and cheering her on. At long last, Rosa’s body was nearly all together. She concentrated some more, willing her body to walk closer and grab its missing piece. It took a few tries but her hands finally gripped her skull so that she could carefully pick it up. Rosa maneuvered it over her neck but something felt slightly off when she set it down.

“I feel…taller?”

“Your _cabeza_ isn’t on all the way, _cariño_. Just give it a quick spin and you’ll be all set!” Héctor instructed.

Rosa did what he told her, getting momentarily dizzy and now knowing how a screw felt, then inspected herself to make sure that everything was in order.

“Whoa, that’s cool!”

“You did great, _mija_! You’re a very fast learner!” Héctor praised, coming up to pull her into a one-armed hug.

“And you’re a great teacher!” Rosa hugged him back. “I suppose magic is also what allows us to do that?”

“ _Exactamente_!”

 

Just then, they heard a raspy growl; Héctor automatically tugged Rosa behind him as a multi-colored and multi-patterned feline-like creature leaped out from the other side of the bushes, snarling in a cougar-esque way and baring its fangs. It appeared to be hybrid of a few other animals.

It had the sleek, slender body of a cheetah, the head of a fox with long impala horns, and nine, swishing bushy tails. The word “alebrije” rang through Rosa’s mind. Miguel had mentioned them being a common sight in the Land of the Dead and that they were responsible for guiding souls on their journeys as well as being spiritual companions.

The stray Xoloitzcuintli, Dante, she had seen often accompanying him happened to be one, though he appeared fairly (ab)normal in the real world. She could only imagine how bizarre his spiritual form looked.

“Easy now,” Héctor told the advancing spirit guide as placatingly as he could while moving Rosa back along with him. “Nice kitty…fox...whatever.”

“I thought alebrijes were supposed to be friendly?” Rosa whispered.

“Mostly the ones that belong to someone,” Héctor responded. “The wild ones can be a bit more unpredictable.”

“What do we do?”

“Just remain calm and get ready to run when I say so. I’ll hold it off.”

Rosa whimpered, hoping it never came to that. The alebrije looked like it was about to pounce on them at any second. She felt her grandfather tense up and prepared to book it.

“ _Oye_! Gael, _parar ahora_!” A panicked voice suddenly yelped.

Almost instantly, the alebrije halted and plopped onto his haunches, looking all prim and proper and not as if he had just been about to make playthings out of Héctor and Rosa.

The two Riveras shared confused looks just as another skeleton rushed past them and over to the creature, stopping before him while shaking a scolding finger.

“Bad, Gael! You know better than to just run off like that! What did you see this time, a leaf?!”

“Excuse me,” Héctor cut in, straightening up to his full height, looking slightly perturbed. “I take it that unruly alebrije is yours?”

Exasperated, the man sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I arrived here sometime last week and he was waiting for me on the bridge. He’s been with me ever since but he’s been more trouble than he’s worth! He’s absurdly energetic, I’m assuming because he’s part cheetah _and_ fox, which also makes him _very_ speedy and annoyingly cunning. Gael also has the habit of not listening to most commands and taking off after anything he deems chaseable!” At that, the man glared at his furry companion, who just looked away as if he simply didn’t care he was being chastised and calmly groomed his face.

“Well, Gael had a little run-in with my granddaughter, causing her to fall to pieces! She’s very new here so she’s not yet accustomed to how things here work. Needless to say, she was scared out of her wits.”

The man gasped, his eyes widening as he noticed Rosa for the first time since his arrival, and quickly started sputtering out apologies. “ _Díos mío_ , _señorita_! _Lo siento muchisimo! Estás bien_?”

“ _Sí_ , I’m _bien_! It was an accident and my grandpa helped me get myself back together!” Rosa assured him while giving her relative a little smile at the same time. Héctor smiled back at her.

The man sighed, relieved. “Good, good. Again, I’m so very sorry. Gael is too, _aren’t you_?” He gave his alebrije another withering glare. Rosa tried not to laugh as Gael rolled his eyes and huffed.

“I suppose that’s as much of an apology as he’s going to give us,” Héctor snorted.

“He’s part cat, what can you expect? My name is Diego, by the way.” He held his hand out. Héctor accepted and shook it firmly.

“I’m Héctor.”

“Rosa,” Rosa introduced herself when Diego offered his hand to her next. “Will Gael allow me to pet him?” she asked hopefully.

The only alebrije she handled were the copal wood sculptures that were sold near her home in the living world so she was quite curious as to what a real one would feel like.

“ _Aye_ , attention from anyone who isn’t me is just about one of the few things he enjoys, so be my guest, _niña_!”

Trying to repress her giddiness, Rosa eagerly approached the still grooming alebrije. He stopped when he noticed her coming up to him and raised his head, tilting it as she lifted a hand to pet him; his luminescent amber eyes and broad pupils watched her inquisitively.

His nostrils flared, taking in her scent, and his mouth curved upwards in a mimicry of a smile before he got up on all fours. He then bunted her hand, emitting a low, elongated rumble in his throat, a purr Rosa realized.

  
“He likes me!” Rosa cheered. She stroked Gael’s snout, moving on to pet his fluffy neck and back. Gael’s purrs loudened and he moved to rub himself against her, licking her face a few times and making her giggle.

“My wife’s alebrije is similar to Gael,” Héctor mused, watching the adorable scene before him. “Pepita is a jaguar-eagle-ram mix but her personality is very much the same in that she really only listens to Imelda and does her own thing most of the time. She’s also pretty big so just looking at her can be intimidating. Imelda couldn’t have asked for a more appropriate spirit guide.”

Diego chuckled. “Well whoever said that alebrijes takes after their owners never met Gael!”

 

The aforesaid alebrije made a sudden grab for Rosa’s shin to initiate a game of fetch, but she yelped a protest and jumped away. Gael took this as an invite to try again, thinking of it as a game, which cued Héctor and Diego to quickly intervene. While Héctor pulled Rosa away, Diego gave Gael’s nose a blunt smack.

“ _What_ have I told you about taking things that don’t belong to you, _especially_ people’s bones when they’re still attached to them?” Diego scolded his alebrije, who responded with another snarky huff before grabbing the arm Diego had outstretched to point a lecturing finger at him and then took off at a speed that morphed him into a rainbow blur. The gust his speed produced blew Héctor’s hat off, forcing him to fumble for it and clutch it to his head.

“GAEL, GET BACK HERE YOU…YOU–“ Diego cut off his rant with a vexed groan.

Héctor was snickering. “It’s a shame alebrije obedience schools don’t exist here! That _loco_ _guepardo_ - _zorro_ is much in need for one!”

“No kidding, though I doubt one would help much in his case.” Diego then turned to the Riveras. “ _Lo siento_ , but I need to get going before he gets too far! It was real nice meeting you Héctor, Rosa. _Adiós!_ ”

He nodded to them before sprinting off, waving his remaining arm around while yelling various phrases and some not-so-nice names at his playful alebrije, who could be seen halfway to the next block. Rosa and Héctor watched before breaking out in a fit of laughter.

“That was interesting,” Rosa said as Héctor nodded in agreement. The two then, once again, set off towards their final destination.

 

**~* *~**

 

Héctor let out a jubilant _grito_ once the gates to the Rivera Familia de Zapateros finally came into view. Rosa was shocked to see just how much it resembled the one in the Land of the Living, albeit painted with more outstanding colors. Tears welled up in her eyes but she wiped them away before her grandpa noticed. She didn’t want to ruin his mood by making him feel sorry for her again. Luckily, he was too caught up in his excitement to see her crying.

“Welcome home, Rosa!” Héctor boisterously announced as he ran up to the gates, opened them…

….and was then was promptly hit in the face with a boot-shaped projectile.

The force of impact sent him sprawling onto the ground. Rosa gasped and went to help him up but froze and cowered behind the gate as a very loud, very angry voice reverberated throughout the courtyard.

“AND JUST _WHERE_ HAVE YOU BEEN, HÉCTOR RIVERA?!”

Rosa peeked inside and saw an older female skeleton with pure white bones and long lashes storming towards Héctor with a fuming glower on her face. She was holding the hem of her purple dress off the ground, showing that she had on the companion to the boot that had been thrown.

Her hair was black with a single skunk-stripe, indicating she had lived a significantly long life, and streaks of purple in her braids. This must be _Mamá_ Imelda, her great-great grandmother. She matched perfectly in volume and appearance to what Miguel had described of her.

Grouped in the doorway to the kitchen and watching the scene were other skeletons Rosa presumed to be her other relatives. Imelda didn’t miss a stride scooping up her missing boot to thrust it at Héctor, who had just managed to get back onto his feet, before coming to an abrupt stop before him and continuing with her tirade.

“I leave you to look after the shop while we run errands only to come back and find it not only _empty_ but _closed_ and you gone for _hours_?!” She didn’t have to say it, but Héctor knew that Imelda was thinking he had out on the family again. While technically he had, it had only been for a short while as opposed to years. Still, her undisclosed fear served to produce a sickening amount of guilt in his gut. He attempted to lighten the mood.

“You know how I am with time. We’re as compatible as a mongoose and a cobra.”

He shrunk as her glare became sharper in the way only she knew how to manage. His wife’s wrath was not one to be trifled with. “S-sorry b-but, _Diosa_ , I have a very good reason, I swear!”

 

The matriarch’s eyes narrowed doubtingly but she placed her favorite weapon back on her foot then stood tall and dignifiedly with her arms crossed over her chest. She gave her husband a look that told him she would hear no excuses, which was good since he didn’t really have any.

“Well? What reason have you got for abandoning the shop and running off to who knows where?”

Héctor inhaled a deep breath and straightened his back as he removed his hat to give his wife more respect. His eyes flicked from his beloved spouse to the rest of his family who had now emerged from the house all the way and was assembling behind Imelda.

Héctor released his breath saying, “ _Mi familia_ , I had been at the Department of Family Reunions earlier to pick up our new addition.”

Imelda’s hard features softened considerably while the others gasped in alarm.

“ _Abuelo_ ,” Victoria, the eldest granddaughter of Héctor and Imelda, spoke up, worry and a tinge of hopefulness in her voice. “Is it Elena?”

She had been waiting for years for her baby sister’s time to join their family, so it broke Héctor’s heart that he had to disappoint her. He stepped up to grab her shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. With an apologetic smile, he shook his head.

“Not this time, _mija_. I’m sorry.”

Victoria deflated but nodded. At least Elena had a bit more time left in the living world.

“Who is it then, _mi amor_?” Imelda asked gently, her hands clutched to her chest.

The gate creaked as the answer pushed it open further and stepped inside, looking timid. Rosa gripped her arm and stood beside Héctor.

“ _Hola,_ _Mamá_ Imelda, everyone. I’m home.”

 

Aside from Héctor, who was repressing himself from crying and looking off to the side, everyone gawked at the teenage girl with dropped jaws; an array of emotions that ranged from shock, pity, sadness, to grief on their faces. Imelda’s arms dropped to her sides. She was the first to find her legs, which were like concrete, so she trudged forward.

She struggled to fight off the tears that threatened to obscure her vision of her beautiful great-great granddaughter that had somehow been brought to them far too early. She met her husband’s watery eyes, silently asking how this came to be. He mouthed back “later” and she subtly nodded, reverting her gaze back to Rosa.

She raised her hands, gingerly cupping her granddaughter’s face, and used her thumbs to wipe away some loose tears that trickled from her eyes. The smile Imelda gave her was tender and her eyes were soft with adoration, despite how tormented she felt on the inside.

Imelda then wrapped Rosa in an embrace that was pure motherly love and everything good in the universe. “Oh, _mi pobrecita bebé_. Everything will be okay. We’re all here for you now.”

Rosa sobbed as she wrapped her arms around Imelda’s ribcage, the emotions she had been bottling up since seeing her new forever home finally having an excuse to be unleashed.

“Shh, _mi mariposita_. Shh.”

Victoria and the others joined around the two, forming a giant group hug. Héctor was the sole observer with a swelling heart. He couldn’t have asked to be part of a better family. The family broke away a few minutes later, Imelda moving to stand next to Héctor. She interlocked her arm with his and rested her head against his shoulder.

The others lined up in a semi-circle around Rosa, eagerly awaiting their turn to greet her. Rosita was first, enveloping the adolescent in one of her famous bear hugs and complimenting her markings, tickled that one of them was a rose. Rosa also found out that she had, indeed, been named after her great-great aunt. After another crushing hug, Rosa was passed onto her great-aunt. Victoria’s hug was much gentler than her aunt’s. She kissed Rosa’s temple while running her fingers through her hair.

“Welcome home, _mi querida_ ,” she said lovingly.

“ _Gracias_ , _Tía_ Victoria.”

Óscar and Felipe were next, sandwiching their grand-niece while speaking to her in their unique way of communicating.

“It is–”

“–so very nice to meet you–“

“–in person, Rosa!”

Rosa giggled, giving them each a peck on the cheek before they released her.

Coco and Julio did not mind being the last to welcome their great-granddaughter, approaching her hand-in-hand. Upon seeing her great-grandmother, who looked just as warm and amiable as she had in life, Rosa was overcome with a new wave of sentiment. She practically launched herself into Coco’s arms, crying harder as she held onto her as tight as possible.

“ _Mamá_ Coco! I missed you so much! I-I never thought I’d see you again! Everyone else misses you, too, especially _Abuelita_ and Miguel! And…and–”

Coco softly chuckled and rubbed Rosa’s back to allay her. “ _Cálmate_ , Rosita. You’ll get hiccups if you don’t. _Relajate_.”

Julio wrapped his arms around his girls. ““We’re just happy you’re here.”

A small laugh escaped through Rosa’s sobs. “Me too, _Papá_ Julio.”

 

As Rosa chattered with her ancestors, filling them in on everything about the living world and their living relatives as best as she could, Imelda pulled Héctor off to the side to talk to him in secret. She looked deathly serious. Héctor had a feeling why and felt his throat tighten.

“What happened to our baby girl, Héctor?”

Her husband scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “She didn’t tell me exactly how she died, but judging by the evidence on her clothes, I have a pretty good idea.” He paused, not looking forward to what he had to say.

Imelda’s glare deepened. “Enough with the suspense, Héctor! Tell me what you’re thinking this instance!”

Héctor flinched but recovered. Time to rip the bandage off; it’d be extremely painful but quick. “Imelda…Rosa was murdered, but not before she was…raped.”

A strangled noise surged from Imelda’s throat as her legs suddenly gave out. Héctor immediately caught her, holding her against him as his arms tightened around her. He mumbled tearful apologies, wishing that he hadn’t just delivered the worst news she most likely ever heard.

The others were too caught up in their conversation to see what was going on between the heads of the family, which was just as well. No need to initiate more panic and sour Rosa’s welcome.

“R-raped?” Imelda was hoping she heard wrong, but the grim look on her beloved’s face confirmed that she hadn’t.

Her eyes traveled over to her darling descendant, who was currently laughing at a joke Óscar had told her. Imelda took in the missing shoe and the stains–blood not being the only ones–sullying her shirt and pants, causing her feel nauseous and furious. If any of the others also noticed, they said nothing.

“Rosa is extremely traumatized,” Héctor morosely explained, looking to where Imelda was. “She may seem fine now but she’s been having sporadic memories, which resulted in a pretty terrible panic attack on our way here. It’s best if we don’t pressure her into telling us what happened.

There are still some missing pieces and these memories tend to leave her in a vulnerable state. Forcing them out will do more harm than good. The best we can do is just be there to offer comfort and support until they pass. When Rosa is ready, she will talk. We should be on the lookout for clues of these memories resurfacing, in the meantime.

Certain things cause them to come but without knowing the full story, we can’t be sure of what those triggers are. One thing I am sure about is that older teenagers seem especially troubling for Rosa. Just seeing a group of them is what instigated her panic attack.”

Imelda nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “We should let the others know.”

“Of course. Rosa is most likely exhausted by now, so we’ll set her up in one of the guest bedrooms and then gather everyone in the living room to fill them in.”

And with that, the plan was set.

Intertwining their hands, Héctor and Imelda rejoined their family just as Rosa was stifling a yawn.

“Come now, _gatita_. You need to get some sleep,” Héctor said gently, grabbing ahold of Rosa’s hand.

“But I’m not sleepy, _Papá_ Héctor,” she denied stubbornly through another yawn.

Héctor raised a knowing brow and smirked, patting her head. “Sure you aren’t. _Venga_.”

Rosa grumbled but allowed herself to be walked into the house, her family calling out good night wishes after her. Once inside, Rosa was amazed that the house was bigger than it appeared on the outside. With the dead Rivera family being almost as large as the living one, and expanding with new arrivals, it was to be expected.

Imelda watched her husband and granddaughter leave, waiting until she was sure they were out of earshot, before she turned to the others with a set face, though they could tell it was forced, meaning something was seriously wrong. They were filled with dread but complied when she ordered them to gather in the living room for a family meeting.

 

Meanwhile, Héctor opened the door to one of the many well-kept guest rooms, guiding Rosa inside. By now she was dragging her feet, her fatigue catching up with her at last.

“This will be your room, Rosa. It may look a little plain right now, but we’ll work on redecorating later. I hope you like it,” Héctor said, gently setting down her violin case against the wall near the door.

Rosa mustered up enough energy to explore her new accommodations. It was a decent sized room, just about as big as her old one, and was painted a relaxing shade of yellow, filling the area with a sense of warmth and coziness along with the small lamps that hung on the walls.

The veil-thin curtains billowed serenely in the tepid night air that blew through the opened windows. Rosa wandered over to one of the two Nayarit dressers that made up the furniture along with the twin-sized bed and a couple nightstands. She opened the topmost drawer and peered inside, seeing various primly folded outfits.

Rosa assumed the other drawers and dresser were full, too. It seemed like Mamá Imelda had the foresight to have clothes ready for whoever joined her family next. However, amongst all the garbs, a bright red one was what caught her attention.

It seemed oddly familiar to her. She pulled it out.

“Is this...?” The thick fabric unfurled when she held it up, revealing to be a small red hoodie with white stripes running down on the outer side of each sleeve. “Miguel’s hoodie?”

“It had been accidentally left here during the altercation with Ernesto,” Héctor informed. He looked over Rosa’s shoulder at the garment; sorrow and nostalgia prominent in his eyes. He longed to see Miguel again, but even more so to hold him.

“I was wondering where it went. He never told us and we never thought to ask.”

Rosa carefully folded the hoodie the same way she found it and placed it back in the safety of the drawer, closing it. She then looked down at her own attire, taking care to not stare for too long at the stains.

“I…suppose I should get out of these. They’re…kinda ruined, huh?” She attempted at a joke, but it fell flat since it was far too soon for both her and Héctor.

Nonetheless, her grandfather let out a weak chuckle to humor his granddaughter, but it just made things more awkward. He cleared his throat and pointed at the other dresser.

“I believe there are some pajamas in there that should fit you. You can just…toss those ones away once you’ve changed. I’m sure Imelda or one of the others would be happy to make you some new flats later, if you’d like.”

“That would be nice. Perhaps I could even help them?”

“I’m sure they would love that, _mijita_. Now get changed and get to bed. We’ll be around if you need us.”

 

Héctor turned to leave and give Rosa some privacy but stopped, thinking for a few seconds, before he turned back around to scoop her into a snug embrace. He kissed her forehead, allowing his lips to linger for a short while, before he let her go and made his departure, shutting the door quietly behind him. Rosa stared at it for a minute then walked over to the dresser.

She rummaged through it, careful to not mess up her grandmother’s handiwork, until she found a pair of pajamas that were in her size. Rosa shed her old clothes, tossing them into a nearby empty wastebasket, and changed. She found the pajamas to be very comfortable and very light, not at all heavy on her bones like she thought they would be. In fact, the clothes she had arrived in had also been considerably lighter in contrast to how they felt before. It was as if the physics of clothing didn’t apply in this world.

Another yawn reminded Rosa how tired she truly was. Sleep was sounding so good right about now so she pulled back the thick comforter but hesitated, biting her lip. She headed back to the dresser and grabbed Miguel’s hoodie, inhaling the fresh lavender aroma. It must have been washed recently. She slipped it on, snuggling the fabric as homesickness suddenly overcame her, and crawled under the comforter. She cried herself to sleep.

 

**~* *~**

The air was thick with tension. Héctor could feel it from the hallway before he stepped into the living room where the others were waiting with bated breaths. All eyes snapped to him once he appeared; Imelda was sitting in her favorite recliner, the one next to her empty. Héctor took that spot and grabbed ahold of her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it.

The others were either situated on the sofa or standing next to it. Victoria was nervously wringing her hands while her mother was doing her best to ease her troubles, even if she was just as distressed. Next to Coco were Julio and Rosita; the siblings held onto each other. Lastly, the twins were the ones standing, sharing worried looks and seemingly having a mental conversation with one another.

“ _Papá_ ,” Coco began, breaking the silence, “what brought our little Rosa to us?”

It was the most pressing question on everybody’s mind that deserved to be answered first.

Héctor glanced up at his daughter with sad, weary eyes. He had waited for so long to see her again; their reunion having been one of the most celebrated. While she was 100 years old now, Coco would always be his baby girl and he would continue to dote on her for as long as he could to make up for all those years of her life that he missed.

Upon the realization that his great-grandson, Berto, was going through the same misery of being forcibly separated from his child, his heart ached excruciatingly. It would be decades before the two saw each other again.

“We don’t know the full story, but what I can tell you is that Rosa was murdered in cold-blood after she was…raped.”

The vile word was like tar in his mouth, sticking obstinately and making it difficult to spit out without feeling like he was going to throw up. He was positive Imelda was feeling the same way, though she was more adept at concealing her emotions. A quick glance at her told him that her mask was close to slipping, though, and that she was desperately trying to remain calm and collected for the sake of her family.

At the appalling revelation, the room erupted instantaneously into despair and outrage; Héctor’s pleads to lower their voices were drowned out by demands to know who was responsible and wonderings of how anyone could do such an inhumane thing to a child, _their_ child.

All it took for everyone to finally shut up were a couple of sharp claps from Imelda, whose mask was firmly back in place as she upheld her role of revered leader of the family.

 “Keep it down lest you wake up Rosa! Héctor will explain everything he knows so refrain from anymore outbursts.” Imelda then gave Héctor a small nod that he returned, grateful for her assistance.

“We do not know who the _diablos_ are just yet. It’s very likely that our living relatives are having the crime being investigated as we speak. But with news being a bit further behind here, we might not know for some time… _if_ they’re found.

Until then, it’s very important we watch out for Rosa as much as we can. She’s already been through so much today so she’s still very much overwhelmed. She also has a fragmented memory in regards to the details surrounding her death. They come to her randomly in short bursts and the triggers could be anything, so we need to be extra vigilant on whatever those could be, as well.”

“Older teenagers are the biggest concern for her. They might seem like nothing to us, but will send Rosa in another panic attack,” Imelda added.

“Right,” Héctor agreed, “she is to not go _anywhere_ in the city without one of us going with her. Should any one of you specifically spot a group of teenagers, you are to keep Rosa’s attention away from them until you can get her a safe distance away from them. _Entendido_?”

Everyone somberly nodded.

“Are those _hijo de puta_  here?” The question came from Julio, who was holding a grieving Coco.

Héctor shook his head. “Not that I know of.” He stood to help comfort his daughter.

“I hope they are or will be very soon,” Imelda growled, her expression transforming into a seething scowl, her hands balling into fists. “I want them to _pay_ for hurting my _bebita_ in such a revolting way! People like them don’t deserve a chance to have an afterlife! They should be sent straight to Hell!”

“ _Cálmate_ , _Diosa_ ,” Héctor said reasonably. He was rocking Coco in his lap as if she was 3 years old again. “There _will_ be retribution but we need to put Rosa first.”

“You’re right,” Imelda sighed, relaxing a hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Your anger is justified, _mi amor_ ,” Héctor assured, with an understanding smile.

“Do you think Rosa will need therapy?” Victoria questioned, causing every pair of eyes to be directed at her. “None of us has ever experienced this sort of thing before and like _Papá_ Héctor said, Rosa is very much afflicted by it. We might be able to help her emotionally, but there are still the mental scars to worry about. Short of books, we don’t exactly have the means necessary to help her with those. There’s also the concern about phantom pains.”

Héctor knew Victoria was undoubtedly right. His stoic granddaughter was always one to get straight to the point, unafraid to be blunt. He admired that about her for she was so much like Imelda in that way.

But truth be told, he was very concerned about putting Rosa through any therapy. It wasn’t about not being able to afford it–that they could do, no problem–it was about the uncertainty.

Would a therapist really be able to help Rosa overcome her fears? Would they understand her triggers and the overall emotional, physical, and mental impact they have on her? Or would they try to make her feel insignificant by telling her that things happen for a reason?

Not to mention it would very likely force Rosa into going back to that nightmarish time and coerce her into recounting details that she has yet to recall. Héctor had far too many concerns for him to be comfortable with just the thought of therapy, even if he knew that it was supposed to be a good thing and that it helped many people.

Call him old-fashioned but he would much rather have Rosa be helped out by her family than some stranger. But the decision was not his to make.

“It should be up to Rosa whether or not she wants to undergo therapy.” Héctor responded decisively. “We’ll discuss it with her when, and _only_ when, she’s ready.”

 

The others seemed content with this answer and got up to go about their evening. Óscar and Felipe headed into the workshop to work on their latest design for a shoe that had been approved by Imelda a few days ago.

Héctor helped Coco to her feet, allowing Julio to escort her to their room, and then sat down in his chair. He grabbed Imelda’s hand again, not just to help anchor her but himself, as well. Rosita cheerfully informed that she was going to start baking some special sweets to welcome Rosa once she awoke.

Héctor and Imelda knew that wasn’t the only reason why she wanted to work in the kitchen; cooking was Rosita’s way of handling grief. Food always seemed to help people feel better and, as the designated family chef, she was determined to lift spirits with her delicacies.

Dinner had been forgotten due to the circumstances, but it was alright. Skeletons didn’t necessarily have to eat or withhold scheduled meals. The Riveras enjoyed doing so simply because family meals were a treasured tradition carried over from their previous lives that allowed everyone to be together in one place to build and strengthen ties.

Victoria told her grandparents that she was heading off to the library to check-out some psychology and childcare books, just in case they needed them, before hugging and kissing them good-bye.

Héctor and Imelda were now alone. They counted this as a blessing for they could finally drop their façade and mourn privately.

They leaned close, resting their foreheads on their interlocked hands while grabbing despondently onto each other with their free ones. Together, they shed tears for the young soul who should have had many, many, _many_ more years of her life left but had been so unfairly and brutally torn away from the living world before she had the chance to truly experience them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :') Anyone need any tissues???
> 
> Also, free cookies to anyone that can guess who I named Diego and Gael after!!! ;D Gael is a mix of four of my favorite animals: cheetah, fox, impala, and mountain lion, whose mating calls really are like that of a screaming woman! O_o
> 
> Stay tuned for more and thank you so much, again!!!!! ILU!!!! <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to see Papá Héctor have interactions with his other great-great grandchildren. I absolutely adore his relationship with Miguel but I just thought this would be a nice change. I chose Rosa because she's my favorite out of Miguel's cousins.
> 
> Feel free to make any suggestions or point out any errors! :)


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